HR 7L Lady Petrilla
by slytherinsal
Summary: Petrilla chose Holdlessness as the lesser of many evils; now an established fence she finds herself invited to help the Weyr in their aid of the helpless and finds new purpose in life. month 10 2522 to end of turn 2523
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Petrilla hoped that the wrongfully accused woodcrafter, Hallon, would agree to be her bodyguard; he looked large and dependable! And his friend Voll did have a reputation as a clever and shrewd jewel thief and well as knowing how to appraise and cut stones.

And there was the matter of her grandmother's ring.

Petrilla had not chosen a life of crime lightly. Her mother had been a toy – not a willing one – of Lord Meron back in the days when Fax ruled; and she, Petrilla, had been the result. At least it had been before the time he had contracted the disease that killed him; Petrilla shuddered, having heard that it could be contracted too by an innocent unborn baby as well as by a sexual partner! Fortunately – in some ways – Meron had tired of Petara eventually and mother and child had returned to live quietly with Sulara, Petrilla's grandmother. There was precious little welcome from the rest of their kin; for whom Petara had become an overworked auntie. And then the winter ailment had struck, viciously, leaving Petrilla wondering what to do after the double loss of her mother and grandmother; and before she had even finished grieving her uncle had decided it was high time his bastard niece was wed.

It was during this traumatic time that Petrilla's ring had been stolen, whilst visiting High Reaches Hold to seek out a suitable bridegroom – suitable that is in the eyes of her uncle – and Petrilla had wept the bitter tears she had held in check for the grief of her loss.

The ring had been returned with a scrawled note on a piece of rag – 'sorry'. She still had the note. It was a reminder that some people were decent. Sometimes it was a reminder of which she needed tangible proof to convince her.

Petrilla knew gems and jewels; she had seen enough and heard them evaluated by Meron's various toys of the moment. The inference of what to do next was obvious if she wanted to avoid marriage.

Become Holdless and a thief.

It had been harder than that of course, after her dramatic disappearance right before the betrothal ceremony; she had needed to knife a man who wanted to use her and he had taken longer to die than she realised he would. That had been bad. Then she had a stroke of good fortune, falling in with the drunken, but eminently cheery and talented fence, Grissom and he had taken her as his assistant. Just his assistant. Plenty of people assumed he was bedding her; but in truth he treated the green young Holdless woman more like a daughter.

Never having had a father figure, and despising her male relatives, it had given Petrilla a different outlook on men; and she grieved sincerely when his liver finally failed and she had to keep him dosed with stolen fellis until he died.

She and taken over his business in its entirety.

Some had scoffed and refused to deal with a chit of a girl; some had scoffed and tried to cheat her. But by that time she had the joint backups of a lot of knowledge and a small, but lethal crossbow that Grissom had made for her and taught her to use.

It was a good living, but she was growing tired of having to threaten the men who would insist on getting fresh; every now and then it even became necessary to make a bloody example to make sure that 'no' was a word that stopped being too complicated for the men around to understand. And then she had sheltered from Threadfall in a cave with the honest-faced woodcarver, who claimed to have been dismissed for a theft he did not commit; and it was obvious from his friend's explanation that the young man was innocent of any crime bar being too handsome, and failing to pick up on the predatory signals of some tunnel snake of a Holder's wife who had him accused in a vindictive fit of pique. As for his friend Voll….Voll was another matter.

Voll was a thief; but a self confessed sentimentalist. And if it WERE he who had once returned her ring, an incident the repellent 'hard as diamonds' Jemus had scoffed about, that was a link….and looked almost like fate, if one were at all superstitious.

They knew her itinerary, hers and little Otillie, the child who had become separated form her Holdless parents.

Petrilla did not consider herself to be maternal, but something of the child's self contained distress reminded her of herself. And she had taken the child under her wing. After all, nobody but the Holdless looked out for the Holdless.

And Otillie made herself useful fetching and carrying and was a great help with the preparing of meals too. Petrilla had been almost sorry in a way when the boisterous Mulgan Trader Train turned up at Highspire Hold and brought with them the child's parents! She had been delighted for Otillie of course; and pleased too that she and her parents might have a better life when Morrity Mulgan invited them to join their train as their own family had been so depleted. Petrilla had been moved to ask how come their family had been so depleted; if it had been through carelessness she would have warned Otillie's parents off. But one could not quibble with losing one girl to marriage, and her sister and brother to Impression!

Petrilla had managed to get a small cave to herself in the High Reaches Holdless caverns – her crossbow had helped – for some of her clients liked a little privacy for their transactions. She had also managed to acquire the services of a fisherman to sleep across the door in return for her protection from a group of thieves who had tried to roll him. The poor fellow had suffered a bang on the head and could not remember who he was even; and the Main Hold folk would not let him stay in the healer hall there for fear he was lying. As if anyone with a bump that big was likely to be! Thought Petrilla; and if the healers had seen it before some officious little twat had taken the decision on himself they would have agreed! It was all down to the well organised activities of the self-styled Lady Holdless Thella that had put everyone on their guard. And right here, the recent thievery to sell to Southern and the Oldtimers had NOT helped.

As an additional precaution Petrilla had rigged up a curtain she had made a few turns previously; she had collected every bead and bell she could lay her hands on and purchased part of a shipment of light bamboo-cone stems to cut into short lengths and hollow out; and she had strung the whole lot on strong twine hung from a bamboo pole. By driving nails over an entrance way she could balance the pole on them and secure the ends; and it became impossible to come in without making a noise by disturbing the beads. And because it was not solid she could see figures lurking behind it too.

There were two there now; and Petrilla lifted her crossbow.

She was relieved to recognise her visitors; it was Hallon and Voll, and she felt much cheered. With a big man like Hallon, if he had come to accept her job offer, she need never worry. She smiled.

"Hallon!" she said "And Voll! Good to see you!"

The two men ducked in through the tinkling curtain that masked off this little cave; it was impossible to pass through it without making some noise.

"Clever precaution, Lady Petrilla" said Voll.

Petrilla shrugged.

"A woman on her own needs warning of the approach of anyone" she said, tucking her little crossbow out of sight now she knew who had approached her. "Have you come to accept that job?"

Hallon looked uneasy.

"I – well, I didn't tell you all the truth" he said, uncomfortably "Though I didn't myself outright lie."

"No, he left that to me" grinned Voll "Because I don't blush when I lie the way he does!"

Hallon blushed furiously!

"And are you now planning to tell me the truth?" asked Petrilla. She was wondering what was going on; though somehow she was not as uneasy as logic told her she should be. Instinctively she LIKED this pair!

Hallon nodded in answer to her question.

"When you presided over the shelter we discussed briefly the fact of the Weyr extending the dragonrider oath to protect to actively helping people" he said "And I can tell you that Dand was picked up by Mirrith and her Rider and now has a wooden leg. I carved it. It's not the first I've carved; Bronze Rider D're has one of mine too, among others."

She surveyed them warily.

"And yet Voll is vouched for as a known jewel thief - by the boy Jemus whom I know full well" she said.

Voll shrugged.

"I fell foul of the Weyr, and found things had changed since I was incarcerated; and I liked what I found. They thought me not incorrigible and gave me a second chance – in return for helping people like, well, young Ottillie. The Mulgans have Weyr connections, that Bronze Rider D're is Morrity's own nephew. And Dand too, and kids born to thievery that could do with a hand up and into a better life. It's too late for young Jemus" he said sadly.

"Hard as diamonds" murmured Petrilla. "He might just be protesting that to hide insecurity, you know."

Voll brightened.

"I can hope so" he said softly. "I'll try to get to see more of him, see if I can break through."

"And what does the weyr want of me?" asked Petrilla, looking at the large woodcrafter "And where do you really fit in, Hallon?"

He grinned.

"I came to the Weyr as Weyrwoodcrafter and then I Impressed Melth" he looked soppy for a moment as he pulled up his overtunic to display his knots.

Petrilla's eyes widened.

"Bronze Rider! Ottillie was right then! She said afterwards to me that she though you walked like a man used to respect! An illustrious personage indeed to take an interest in the affairs of us scum!"

H'llon frowned.

"No!" he said. "There are doubtless scum amongst you; but to my mind, most Holdless are either those who like their independence – like you, I'm guessing – or those who are unlucky. Either in being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or from an overly harsh ruling by some Holder who has not thought through, or cares less about, the consequences of his decree. And I'd like to offer you the chance of Impression, if you'll take it: I'linne, who I guess is kin of yours, has, and Meliandra's considering it. Ipominea's too young yet."

She raised her eyebrows.

"You recognise my kinship? And there was I thinking I was the lucky and pretty one!"

H'llon frowned.

"All of those girls have lovely eyes and they're a lot prettier when they're not half starved of food and wholly starved of affection" he said stiffly. "I'll not listen to you abuse my fosterlings!"

That surprised her.

"My apologies, Bronze Rider" she said. "No offence was meant – merely a passing sympathy that they resemble our sire more than I do. I'm a bastard; not that my mother had any choice in the matter. And here I'm Queen of my cavern, not available as a drudge or a suitable pawn for marriage maintained on sufferance. And for the reason that I am what I am and I am what I choose, I will not come to the Weyr, for I relish my independence."

H'llon, mollified, nodded.

"I wondered if you would feel that way" he shrugged. "The offer will remain open indefinitely should you ever change your mind. And I certainly hope you'll feel like visiting your sisters and getting to know them properly. You could claim to trade to the Weyr where they're less likely to recognise distinctive stones, say."

She laughed.

"You've got that story all well worked out even if you can't lie on your own behalf. Was there anything else you wanted of me than to offer me a dragon and some sisters who might or might not acknowledge the relationship?"

"They would acknowledge it" said Voll "They're nice girls. They resented his more scheming and nasty mistresses, like the one I robbed blind, but they'd not resent one of his involuntary acquisitions, nor any sibling of any relationship if they weren't snooty at them. As for what more we want, that's plenty. Information; and we'd pay for that. Information about dangerous renegades that give the rest of the Holdless a bad name; knowledge about certain people we track – there was a trader killed a baby to keep him quiet for example, that the Weyr tracked down, that Hold wouldn't for the mother being a loving wench – tracing stones perhaps for friends of the Weyr, and we'd see a reward was offered: knowledge of what Lords and Holders need to be kept an eye on for not fulfilling their duty, knowledge of renegade dragonmen – all sorts! And then there's our orphan hold; if you'll take orphans under your wing to pass them on to us, we'd see you remunerated for your troubles!"

Petrilla looked thoughtful.

"You've certainly got your feet well under the Weyr table, Voll – 'we' and 'us' and 'our' being thrown about. I don't suppose you'd use the first person plural if you hadn't been made welcome. That gives me pause for thought about the Weyr; I've always been wary of it because of my dear caring father."

"Huh, a fig for the old bugger" said Voll.

"Seconded" said H'llon. "He's dead; and nothing to do with you really."

She nodded.

"As to expenses, unless there's a serious expense – a healer, say – having the odd extra pair of hands around pays for feeding quite adequately" she said. "I was half sorry to see Ottillie go, though glad for her; I got quite fond of her. I really don't see it would be a problem to bring in other orphans."

"It's the cripples who get abandoned who'll need more care" said H'llon "And the Weyr is quite ready to pay you a stipend as an orphan finder in the field, lest it break into your er, usual profits. Some WILL need more care, and there's no reason you shouldn't claim to sell them to the Weyr. Everyone reckons we're mad anyway. Some will be all right; Dand's pretty capable and old enough to make up his own mind. I'm thinking of kids like an apprentice of mine; she was just seven turns when she lost her foot in her father's saw mill, and he was happy to give her away to a trader – D're Mulgan as it happens, then Daire – to hide the evidence. She has a wooden foot." He was clenching both teeth and hands at the memory.

Petrilla nodded.

"And I guess I know that you are truly genuine in your care by that reaction" she said softly "Though I liked you before, and I'm rarely wrong. I'll be sorry not to have you as a bodyguard. What about you cutting stones for me, Voll?"

He grinned.

"If they come from those rich enough to lose them, I'll take my pay for my work as their contribution to the Weyr orphan fund!" he said.

Petrilla laughed.

"Then that's a deal too. Do you help adults too?" she looked at H'llon. He shrugged.

"If they let us" he said. "We got Shayam reinstated with Lord Bargen; and we stole Voll well enough."

She grinned.

"Stealing a thief? I like that. Come, follow me" she got up and went to the entrance curtain "A fellow I've been half looking out for, and him to sleep across my door in exchange, has no memory of who he is. And in the absence of knots to prove his identity they won't take him into the Hold proper."

H'llon growled something about 'foolishness'. It had a few less repeatable words in it.

"Not really" said Petrilla. "How can they know he's not dissembling? He could be a vicious renegade for all they know. And there's been enough of it to the East by all accounts, bold and violent raids and inside men to pass information first."

"Holderfolk don't have dragons at their beck and call to discern lies from truth" said Voll dryly. "You be too quick to judge 'em, H'llon."

H'llon flushed and shrugged.

"Anyone can wear any knots to get into places" he said "And if they can act the manner get away with it. It's no proof of person really. But I guess I'm used to people who can judge others even without dragons checking truth."

"Ar, and that's why you be Bronze Rider and all your friends Riders of some sort too" said Voll. "It's them fine instincts."

"And trained observation!" protested H'llon. "We logicators work hard to train all out senses to pick up false notes – as can anyone! For someone in power not to do so is sheer laziness!"

"Sheer stupidity more like" said Voll "And that's always issued in big barrels at birth, like the marks the more to the higher, present company excepted M'lady."

The man in whom Petrilla had taken an interest sat on a rock, dully contemplating the world through perplexed eyes.

"Friend fisherman, this man may be able to help you" said Petrilla, crisply.

H'llon studied the man with care.

"Beyond that you are at least a journeyman fishcrafter out of a small Hold on the Island of Ista, with caring kinfolk close to you but with a need to be careful with marks I can tell nothing about you" said H'llon gravely.

Petrilla and the fisherman stared; Voll, more used to the logicators, grinned.

"Well, good sir, I don't know that much about me, though 'Ista' do seem to ring a bell" said the fisherman.

"How did you see all that at a glance?" demanded Petrilla.

H'llon shrugged, blushing in embarrassment at her wonder.

"His gansie is faded but obviously orange in hue, Ista's colour, with the distinctive rows of numbweed-leaf pattern popular as a pattern on all garments from there. My friend from Ista has a gansie very similar" he added. "Though his knots have been torn off there's a shred of cords where they ripped still sewn for security to his gansie. There's a strand of turquoise for the fishcrafthall, and the other strand seems to have orange, white and brown. Orange and white designate Ista Hold itself, the addition of a third colour suggests a small Hold beholden to Ista. The number of rope calluses on his hands show a lot of hard work, as do the rub marks from ropes on the inside of the sleeves of his gansie. The sleeves look to have been turned once, and patched with leather; hence by his hard work he's at least a journeyman, for an apprentice his age would hide his knots and just wear Hold knots for shame. The repairs show a caring kinswoman but one that has to look at both sides of a mark twice."

"It's my favourite lucky gansie" said the fisherman suddenly "It's the last one my mother knit for me before she died" he looked surprised "So I know something about myself!"

"That's good" said H'llon. Anything that can jog your memory has to be good."

"They found him in a boat with the mast gone by the board and a welt on is temple" said Petrilla. "After the Healers were done with him he couldn't tell the Steward's men anything so they shuffled him down here."

"A welt on his head and the fools still didn't believe him?" said H'llon scornfully "I'll be having words with Nordar, Lord Bargen's steward, about that; the steward here is under him. Nordar's a good man and he'll not like to know that he's got idiot underlings!"

"O'course" said Voll "We could be seeing the likes of Shayam being overzealous account o' being afraid of people stealing again….if you complain official like you might get him Holdless again afore he's settled back. 'Tain't allus so easy, my friend."

H'llon sighed and his shoulders sagged.

"No. No, you're right, friend Voll. It isn't always easy. People seem to swing from one extreme to another; I wish everyone would just get on with their duty with the occasional use of what they have between the ears!"

Voll laughed.

"Trouble is, H'llon, you're expecting them to HAVE stuff between the ears; and living in Holds do tend to erode that for not having to think much!" he said.

The fisherman leaped to his feet hearing the honorific contraction, bowing quickly.

"H'llon? Me Lord, I didn't know you was a dragonman, I am sorry!"

"Fardles" said H'llon, waving him down. "I'm incognito, so, er, stow that, as I think you fisherfolk say. We've a Rider from Ista in the Weyr, my friend with the gansie; Petrilla, I think the best thing to do is to take this poor fellow back to the Weyr and see if my friends can't fathom out more about him."

Petrilla nodded.

"I'm also thinking he'd have a better time of it there than being made the butt of jibes here" she said.

H'lln started seething again, and Voll hastily took his arm.

"Underdogs pick on them even worse on their luck" he was explaining as he led both fisherman and young Bronze Rider away. "Those who are down get to feel less down by putting others further down."

"I know. I don't have to like it though" growled H'llon testily.

It had been almost an afterthought that prompted Petrilla to ask if H'llon could find out anything about her amnesiac fisherman friend; and she had been amazed at how much the young man deduced just by looking at the man! She felt much easier in her mind when H'llon and Voll took the poor fellow away, though it did leave her without a night watchmen; but she was surprised and gratified when, just a few hours later, a bronze firelizard appeared out of _Between_ cheeping cheerfully and landed in her arm, bending his neck politely to allow her to untie the note on his collar.

It read,

"Fisherman is Kershaw, restored to his sister, regaining memory, many thanks, H"

"No reply really" she murmured to the little bronze firelizard, wondering if he could understand her.

His answering cheep seemed to be an acknowledgement and he took off immediately and vanished _Between_!

Petrilla shook her head wonderingly.

They seemed quite clever little beasts! If she was to work for the Weyr it might be worth asking if she might have one…Voll had sported a pair of greens, after all, and H'llon seemed to have a veritable fair!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Petrilla had only been settled in the Holdless caves for a couple of days; and she turned her attention to finding out who else was there.

It was a sensible precaution on her part as well as nosiness; some Holdless were more violent than others and a lone woman certainly wanted to know if there were any there who had been made Holdless of rape. And any thieves would be glad to know that she was there to help shift their more distinctive acquisitions, and it also helped to know what traders were there, to whom she might sell some of the geegaws she bought. Some traders were more scrupulous than others and asked awkward questions; so too did some tinkers to whom she sometimes sold broken items she did not feel able or inclined to mend herself. Poley Petlengro for example was rather strait laced especially as tinkers went, some said in reaction to less honest kinsmen of his; but he was a good man, considered something of an elder statesman amongst tinkers; and Petrilla liked him. He was there for one; with his wife and the three younger of his four children.

"Hello, Poley, no Chavul? I heard he'd had rather too close an encounter with Thread – he's a brave one to burn it out" said Petrilla.

News spread quickly amongst the Holdless; Chavul had been scored in the hand heaving in a stupid burro, and had held his hand in the cookfire to char the wriggling obscene organism out, destroying most of the hand's function.

Poley brightened to see a familiar and welcome face and beamed on Petrilla with pride and pleasure st her remembering his son.

"Why, Lady Petrilla, you weren't the only one to think so; he got took to the Weyr, his cousin T'arla's a Green Rider there, and now he's Ch'vul. A Bronze Rider no less!" he added proudly.

Petrilla remembered that Poley had always been a great respecter of the Weyr.

"Have they recruited you too to look out after orphans that need help?" she asked quietly.

Poley looked surprised.

"Why, yes, they have Lady. I'd not have figured you working for the Weyr, beggin' your pardon; I thought you kept yourself too much to yourself."

"It's easier with some of the thieves around here" she shrugged "Your brother Chola and his family being among the biggest of them."

Poley pulled a face. He did not get on with his kinsmen; and Petrilla's appellation of thieves was not far out. T'arla had been in his opinion the best of all his wide flung family, as her Impression had proved.

"I can't dispute that Lady" he said "But I am glad there's others on the look out. They're good people at the Weyr; why, T'arla's lover asked me to call him 'Cousin L'gal'; and him a Bronze Rider!"

"They have some decent Bronze Riders up there" said Petrilla "And I suppose attitudes come from the top. You'd better buy from me sometimes; it'll give us an excuse to talk if we're supposed to be dickering"

"No offence intended, Lady, but I'm not happy about where all your goods are from" said Poley.

She grinned.

"Oh no offence taken; you've every right to disapprove, any honest man would! Suppose I promise to sell you only scavenged and discarded things to mend?" she suggested "I've people who sell to me who go through ash-pits and search between the tides and after Gathers where things get dropped or are thrown away. Will that satisfy you?"

Poley hesitated; then nodded.

"First Egg knows, if you're helping the Weyr you're doing the greater good, even if you do receive stolen goods; but I can't afford to risk my reputation. Even though I've now got a warrant signed by Lord Warder Lytol and endorsed by Bronze Rider L'gal!"

Petrilla was intriged; and said so. Poley readily told her the story of the kidnapped girl who had smuggled out a plea for help in a puzzle box by giving it to him.

"Resourceful girl" murmured Petrilla, wondering briefly if the heiress would be happier abandoning her wealth and joining her! "Poley, there's a cavern next to mine, I kept it in case people I was expecting came – they did but not to stay – that would suit you and your family better than this draughty corner."

Poley brightened.

"Now that's real civil of you Lady Petrilla. I'm much obliged; the wife's prone to coughs in the winter time and to get her out of the draught would certainly suit me!"

Petrilla was glad she had claimed a second cave on the offchance 'Hallon' and Voll came to work for her!

She was just in time to get the Petlengros settled in when a group of four obvious siblings turned up.

"Hey, we saw that cave first you lousy tinker! You and your mangy brats get out!" shouted the youngest of the three buxom women.

"On the contrary Dudee" said Petrilla, who recognised this four too. "I kept it for Poley and his family. It is for you to get out."

Dudee gave Petrilla a burst of her colourful opinion while Poley's wife covered their little girl's ears. Petrilla listened without turning a hair.

"I have often observed" she said "That when a swear word is repeated before every word, not only does it indicate a limited intellect but becomes as meaningless as the bleating of ovines. You and Durrican, Ranni and Esmelda can find alternative accommodation – the Petlengros have children and Zila is no well-made bovine like you girls."

Esmelda, the eldest, flushed in embarrassment.

"Well, I like that!" said Ranni, the second woman "Lah-di-dah, go back to Holderland My Lady Nose-in-air! Or we'll make you and take your cave too!"

Poley set his chin ready to fight; his second boy stood beside him while the younger stood protectively in front of their mother and sister. Petrilla smiled a malicious smile.

"Oh, overall you can force your physical will on me" said Petrilla "If I shoot any one of you, the rest will kill me. But if you force me out I can put word about – here and there! – that you were caught pilfering; and see how many cotholders will employ you in their fields in the busy seasons then! See, I know, amongst other people, Lady Katha who has just wed Holder Argan; and I believe he uses your services in the harvest. But he won't if I ask her not to, even without a tale of thievery. It's who you know, you big-mouthed herdbeast; and I know EVERYONE."

The siblings were not killers; as Petrilla banked on. The younger two women scowled at her in baffled fury.

Durrican grinned.

"I like 'em fiery" he said "C'mon, Petrilla, let us share your cave and if you're nice to me I'll let you share my furs!"

"I'd as soon sleep with your burro" said Petrilla looking down her nose "Leave me alone; or I'll get friends down who can MAKE you leave me alone!"

"Aw, c'mon, there's plenty places" said Ranni "We don't need a high class loving wench for a neighbour" she sneered at Petrilla and turned on her heel.

Petrilla let her sigh of relief out slowly so they would not hear it.

Esmelda lingered.

Petrilla's eyes narrowed.

"What?" she said forbiddingly.

"Lady Petrilla, if I work for you will you learn me to talk posh?" Esmelda asked wistfully.

"Why?" asked Petrilla. It was not an encouraging monosyllable; but Esmelda had a lot on her mind.

It all came out in a rush.

Esmelda, at twenty nine, would have preferred to have been settled than to travel with seasonal work turn in turn out; and would have been happy to have wed any one of several of the sons of cotholds where they had worked but found herself unwelcome as such by fond parents not wanting some 'unstable' itinerant girl as wife for their sons no matter haw hard working.

"My family are loud, brash and vulgar and Oh! Lady Petrilla I'm beginning to hate them! I hate being with them, and they're so loud…." She was crying.

Petrilla patted her arm awkwardly.

"If you come and work for me, for one thing they'll try and get you back. I know their type! Their pride won't let them think you might have a mind of your own, you must be made to want to be with them! Are you strong enough to refuse them?"

"I would be if you'd only take me on, add your voice to mine" said Esmelda.

Petrilla nodded.

It must be hard to be the quiet one in a loud and boisterous family where even the girls were 'one of the lads' with farming hands. They were brawny girls and even Esmelda, the slightest of them, could wrestle a bull calf, Petrilla had no doubt! With moral support she might just be able to resist the others with internal strength beyond even the physical.

"Very well" Petrilla decided "You know all my clients are not entirely…honest, didn't you?"

Esmelda shrugged.

"How many people are? Cotholders seek to withhold their tithes and taxes and lie about how much they make. Marksmen lie about the value of things to buy low and sell high. Posh girls lie to their parents about where they are to sleep with our Durri. All people lie I guess; and there's not a big gap between lying and thieving, is there?"

"I suppose that's so" said Petrilla "I never lie to associates; though I may not tell all the truth. And I know a few people who would never lie; one indeed who couldn't tell a lie I guess to save his life and who would not steal either even if he was starving. There are some honest people. Their scarcity makes me for one value them."

Esmelda's simple, round face lit up.

"Truly? Oh THANK you, Lady Petrilla, I feel much better knowing that! Can I move in now? I have my bedroll!"

"Why not?" murmured Petrilla "You can double as my bodyguard until I've a permanent one. You look quite capable of handling anyone."

"Oh yes, I can throw and rope a steer" said Esmelda in naïve pleasure at her own skill "And I CAN arm wrestle the best though I don't like to do it the way my sisters do. They like rough games. But you have to join in or you're not accepted as a good enough worker."

Petrilla nodded. Every part of society had its own rules and foibles!

"I'm goint to be on the lookout for orphans too" said Petrilla "The Weyr take them and offer a bounty on genuine orphans. The kids get a home, the Weyr gets new blood we get some marks; something for everyone" she was not going to tell her new bodyguard all the truth of her association with the Weyr yet; the woman was too ingenuous and might blurt too much out to the wrong person.

Esmelda smiled.

"Yes, they're good people at the Weyr….they fostered Holder Argan's little boy until he married Lady Katha. She's such a lovely lady, isn't she? I almost asked if I could stay there but then in the end we left under a cloud because Durri propositioned Lady Katha at the harvest meal, it being before she wed Holder Argan you understand, and he was being a bit…a bit of a nuisance, and she poured soup all over him. Then Argan hit him. Durri doesn't often stay down when husbands and fathers hit him" she added naively "But he did this time. Only then we weren't welcome."

Petrilla grinned.

"I'd have given some marks to she that! Yes, put your bedroll just behind the door; if anyone comes in they'll be looking for me and not expecting you. We'll devise hand signals between ourselves; and now I'll get klah on the go."

"It's a cosy cave" said Esmelda "Even has an outlet for smoke! Aren't you afraid Thread might get down it?"

"It's crooked enough" said Petrilla "And I'll not have a food pan on during Fall in any case; it can burn itself in the flames if it likes if it should get down! That reminds, me, I guess I'd better invite Zila to share my fire to cook on, if her kids will gather fuel."

"You know them well?" Esmelda wanted to know.

"Well enough. Poley's one of the honest men I told you about; I have to be careful what I sell to him!" she grinned "I deal with thieves; but I'd rather choose men of honour, if not always honesty, to be my friends."

Esmelda tried to digest this.

"How can dishonest men be men of honour?" she asked timidly.

Petrilla shrugged

"I know a thief who has a code….he only steals from those who can afford to lose a little and he gives back any item that he finds out has sentimental value. There are those who call him a fool but I honour him for it."

"Oh! I see!" said Esmelda, understanding dawning.

She was a little slow, thought Petrilla, but not stupid.

She'd train up well enough.

Or maybe she'd be happier at the Weyr helping to farm for their orphan brats. And a happy solution all round if instaed of getting used to her, her simplicity drove Petrilla half _Between_ after they had been together a whole winter!

The twins Durrican and Dudee came looking for their sister as Petrilla had half expected.

"C'mon our sis, come back with us. What for are y'stayin' here?" asked Dudee.

"I'm not coming. I want to stay with Lady Petrilla" Esmelda said as firmly as she could.

"Lady?" sneered Dudee "She ain't no LADY no more than I be. What's she doin' to yer to make yer stay? She threatening you?" she shook a ham like fist at Petrilla.

"No she ain't you fardling shard wit. I want to stay 'cos I'm sick of you and your filthy mouth and I'm sick of being blamed for Durri's inability to keep it in his trews and I ain't so keen on Ranni neither. And she do be a Lady so there!"

"What, jus' 'cos she talk crackjaw like?" scoffed Durri.

Petrilla came forward.

"Possibly because I was taught to speak correctly by the harpers that teach those of us not too feckless to learn. Which also means eschewing double negatives – 'she ain't no lady' if you took out the superfluous negatives translates as 'she is a lady' so you cannot even lie in your attempts to insult me, Dudee. My siring is not something I am proud of; but being the daughter of a Lord Holder I am entitled to the honourific however much I may despise my father. Thus I have sympathy with your sister who wants to better herself for she is not content to remain an ignoramus all her life like you, you nasty creature. She's not a child; and she's not your possession. The choice is hers. End of."

"What you done to her to make her stay wiv you, you filthy baggage?" said Dudee, adding one or two other epithets.

Petrilla raised her eyebrows.

"Spoken to her civilly and treated her with a little common courtesy perhaps" she said. Her voice hardened "If you three will insist on treating your sister like dirt, do you really expect her not to flee your bullying? Now get out!"

"You come along o' us, Essy you fool or you ain't no sister of ourn no more!" said Durri.

"I don't want to be your sister no more. ANY more!" said Esmelda.

Petrilla smiled approval on her both for her defiance and for her correction. She picked THAT up quickly enough!

"HAH! Drudge to a fancy piece then!" sneered Durri "She'll have you screw the men she don't think good enough for her and take your earnings!"

"Your brother appears to be labouring under a misapprehension concerning my occupation" said Petrilla "Durrican, if you're not out of my sight before I can count twenty you'll be limping badly from the bolt I put in your knee. Or your manood if you say another word" she added, revealing her crossbow.

Being crippled in the knee was an argument that carried weight with the brash itinerant; as did the threat to what he held most dear! His fitness was his livelihood, and he bit off the epithet he had been about to spit at Petrilla and dragged Dudee down the passage, stopping to scream vile imprecation once round the corner.

Esmelda was shaking.

Petrilla put an arm around her.

"You were very brave" she said.

"They're so awful – but they're my kin!"

"Let me tell you something" said Petrilla "And enlarge on what I said to them. Of my kin I loved my mother and my grandmother. My father – Meron – I cordially detested and despised. My mother's brother I merely despise. I never had any siblings – well, I do, my father had legitimate daughters and I daresay plenty of bastards – but none I ever met. I hate all my cousins on my mother's side that treated HER as dirt the way I see your siblings treat you; for they despised her for being forced into a union she never wanted as my father's mistress. When Meron was alive the family was all over her for favours; when he died she became so much dung. Family that only want to be fair weather family are no true kin and nor are family that try to control you. YOU make the decisions in your own life from now on, my dear; if you want advice I'll give it but all the choices are yours!"

"You've been so kind, Lady!" said Esmelda.

"I appreciate your desire to better yourself and to win independence" said Petrilla "Come now; let's build the fire up and I'll cook up a stew. I collected some seagreens and shellfish, we'll eat better than many a Holder at his high table!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Voll sidled into Petrilla's cavern as silently as her sound curtain permitted; which was a lot quieter than most people, and no louder than a light breeze.

Petrilla was impressed.

He would probably not have awoken her had she been sleeping; and THAT was a lesson worth learning in too much confidence in one's own cleverness and precaution!

Esmelda leaped to her feet brandishing the club she had fashioned roughly from a bit of wood Petrilla had 'acquired'.

"He's a friend" said Petrilla "Voll – Esmelda. Esmelda – Voll. She's my bodyguard and assistant for the moment as uh, Hallon wasn't available."

"Vigilant" murmured Voll "I be here on an errand from our mutual friends, Lady Petrilla; they asked me to bring you something." He held out a package "It's a firelizard egg. I'm told it's a bronze, you having the sort of contacts it'd not be out of the way."

Petrilla brightened.

"I was wondering if I should ask for one" she said. "Thank them very much for me!"

Voll nodded.

"It's awful useful to have" he said, petting both his own little greens. "You got any work for me? I had a mind to stay around a few days."

Petrilla rummaged in her pack.

"There's this ruby" she said "It's sizeable and quite distinctive."

Voll picked it up and held it to the light.

"It's a garnet" he said "Not a ruby. Hope you didn't pay top mark for it?"

She shook her head.

"He wanted to shift it…hardly surprising. You're sure? Yes, of course you are, sorry" as he gave her a look.

"There's a reward in it too" said Voll "It's Lord Nessel of Crom's third daughter's necklace centrepiece and she believes it's a ruby so the reward's fifty marks. If I cut it I could get five good gems that'd sell for between five and seven marks apiece; less trouble but lower profit and I'll have a tenth of whatever profit you make. Or I can get the reward arranged for you on the same commission."

Petrilla considered.

"It's not so much that the reward is more" she said "But it never harms to have Holderfolk owing favours and thinking kindly….you've a story to give?"

He shrugged.

"I thought I'd use the old chestnut about it being left in lieu of marks to pay for a meal" he said "It being my friend who was thus paid who thought it was just a pretty bauble. Which, when all is said and done, it is; gems are only valuable because we like them and more to the point because expensive pieces like to adorn themselves with them."

"And the effort of extracting them from the ground adds to scarcity value" said Petrilla.

"That too" he nodded "I'll bring your name into it then if you're wishful of the favour to be recalled. What did you pay?"

"Five marks and a woollen jacket" she said.

"Ah, an amateur" said Voll "Any sign of Jemus by the way?"

"Not yet. I haven't toured all the cavern yet; Poley and his family are next door, I've been sorting out fuel gathering and cooking arrangements with them and extracting Esmelda here from her horrible siblings; and I've dared not leave to nose about in case they come back and trash the place in spite."

"Oh, like that" said Voll "Y'want I should ask Hallon to come in for a few days with me and….discourage them?"

"I wouldn't mind" said Petrilla honestly "Bearing in mind she's the petite and gentle one of the bunch."

Voll grinned.

"You never saw our Hallon irritated" he said. He got out a leaf of paper from his pouch to scrawl a brief note. "You'll want paper too" he said "I asked him to bring some" and he attached the note to the collar of one of his little green firelizards and silently directed her to find H'llon.

H'llon arrived shortly thereafter, and soon had Esmelda at her ease explaining how he'd Impressed all his firelizards by accident in the wild when searching for new wood somewhere in southern climes, that, not being in charge of the transport, he could not say where. Esmelda was happy petting them; and Petrilla went to see what she could see. She was fairly certain that Esmelda's kin would be watching for her to leave and with her out of the way would be back to the cavern like a shot either to drag Esmelda back or to cause mayhem. Or both. They were not thieves but thought little of the act of breaking up the possessions of those they disliked without thinking of it as an effective theft by necessitating repair or replacement.

They would be in for a shock; H'llon did not like fighting women but Petrilla had stressed that either of Esmelda's sisters could thrash most grown men and had been known to do so.

H'llon nodded grimly and promised Esmelda that, for the sake of being her kin, he would not hurt them too much.

Several people nodded to Petrilla and she returned their greeting. She was a well known figure here, and good to buy anything of value without asking questions. She frowned when she recognised Maruss, the partner in crime of the Marksman Carney.

Better make sure he didn't perpetrate that trick of the wooden goods game here.

She stopped by a makeshift bar where one enterprising inhabitant sold liquor – stolen for the more expensive kind, trader hooch for the most part, brewed from tubers and whiteroots. She bought a glass of Tillek white for an exorbitant price.

"I have a new story" she announced, quite loudly.

New stories were always popular; whether they were news, gossip or pure fictions.

Soon everyone at or near the liquor stall knew about Carney's trick with selling supposed five-mark pieces for a mark and how anyone who did discovered too late that he had switched the five-mark pieces for worthless blanks.

It would spread.

The crooked marksman would not add to the miseries of the Holdless HERE with his crooked little con!

The men at the stall were anxious for other tales or songs or dances from a pretty girl; and Petrilla extracted herself as best she might. The common cavern where the liquor sellers set up shop were not to her taste; they were always pervaded with the odours of stale beer and liquor, stale sweat and even stale urine. The necessaries provided were not always used at night when it meant navigating all the way across the cavern around and over sleeping bodies; those furthest from the facilities provided often went next to where they slept. The truly unlucky were underneath the stream of someone else's full bladder.

Petrilla shuddered.

It was a dehumanising experience, and much of it could be laid at the blame of Thread.

Before Thread, traders and itinerants travelled freely, usually going south in wintertime. Thread made distant travel especially on foot, difficult; and moving south was not always practical. Also there were more Holdless than ever there had been before Thread. Plenty of Holders had got rid of the least productive members of their society by exiling them in order to make sure of protecting the more productive under cover during Threadfall, and feeding them too since crop sizes had to be reduced to what could be covered by sweep. The elderly, the orphaned, the halt and the sick, those least able to contribute to society who were also those least able to care for themselves, were all superfluous to the requirements of panicking Holders; and ended up in places like these. And in the big Igen caverns, where they were dependant on the handouts from the generosity of the Lord Holder – and Lords Holder Laudey of Igen and Bargen of High Reaches and their ladies were generous – scratching an existence barely suitable for a poor cotholder's porcine.

Thread also meant that exile became a more chilling punishment for undesirables and was consequently one revived enthusiastically by the Holders. With nothing else left to lose, many made Holdless for minor crimes or disabilities often lost the last thing of all – their self respect. They clung to life tenaciously but it could scarcely be said to be living, existing in filth and squalor and misery, failed by the system and failing in everything. Petrilla hated watching people degenerate into creeping, whining mounds of dirty flesh and rags, fawning on anyone who would give them food, or more often alcohol for a temporary oblivion until they died screaming of ruined livers in drink-sodden nightmares. She both pitied and despised them; for there were those who fought to keep their dignity.

Two such fighters were Peder and Jen. Really it was Peder she respected most; though having said that, one had to respect Jen for standing by his brother when there had been another, easier course open to him.

The brothers were fishermen; and Peder's back had been broken by a falling boom in a gale. Petrilla had met then first in their seahold before this sad accident; they had been happy to shelter and feed any Holdless who would tell a tale or sing a song as payment if they were able bodied; and she had seen them take care of and nurse back to health a Holdless man who had got frostbite. And then they themselves were Holdless because their Seaholder made it clear that he could not keep a criple in his Hold, regardless that it was on Hold business – fishing – that he was injured. Jen was welcome; but Peder was expected to suicide.

Peder did not want to die and he and Jen had come north to the Holdless caves. This was their second winter here; and they both greeted Petrilla cheerfully.

"Got some fish; you interested in buying, Lady P?" asked Peder cheerfully.

Petrilla never ceased to be amazed that, in good weather, he could help crew a small boat with his brother! They even crewed with the regular seahold sailors occasionally, but Jen was a pugnacious young man who tended to get them thrown off a crew by taking exception to any comments about his brother. Petrilla had managed to 'acquire' enough wood for them to make their own boat the previous turn, as thanks to their hospitality when they were fit; and the brothers never forgot it. Even Jen managed a brief grim smile for her.

"I'd love to buy fish, I've a couple of bodyguards and an assistant to feed" she said.

She haggled of course; it was expected. Jen for one would take offence if he thought she paid over the odds at all.

As they gave away a significant portion of their catch to the needy, Petrilla did what she could to haggle badly, seeming preoccupied. That was acceptable; Jen was happy enough to take advantage of a mind not wholly on the task in hand! She was also able to pass on a tale of bounty from the Weyr; the brothers would act honestly and might as well benefit from the proffered bounty!

Petrilla was glad she had taken the opportunity to check out who else was in the cavern complex.

Carney and his henchman might well prove an enemy now, as well as Esmelda's siblings; and there were a few ruffians she would prefer to avoid.

She took great delight in making the Harper spy splutter by saying, just as he had taken a mouthful of drink,

"Tell Master Robinton that Thella's not here and if she was I'd arrange to kill the callous bitch myself" she grinned at the chagrined man "You want to avoid notice, get more obvious work calluses to hide the gitar-hardened finger ends and cut that right thumb-nail!"

It was childish but a great deal of fun doing that to people!

Petrilla returned to her own little cavern to find H'llon looking grimly satisfied, Voll grinning and Esmelda half upset and half laughing.

"Those steer wrestlers couldn't handle anything as big as my friend here" grinned Voll. "Seems like they're used to brute force and ignorance. Hal does brute force allied with science. Threw 'em about the place like they was rag dolls. Treat to watch!"

"I never broke anything" rumbled H'llon "I was most particular; and I never had to anyway. They weren't what you might call good fighters."

Esmelda said,

"He – he kept saying 'excuse me' when he threw the girls down!" she sounded faintly hysterical and was almost giggling.

Petrilla grinned.

"He's the soul of courtesy, that's why" she said.

"They ain't comin' back, anyhows" said Voll with satisfaction. "Told 'em next time he wouldn't be so gentle. Think they believed me."

"I would" said Petrilla dryly "A more villainous type than you, my dear Voll, one could hardly hope to meet; and I should think they're still wondering what might happen if Hallon left off being exquisitely polite. Esmelda, dear, we've fish, why don't you go with Voll and gather greens to go with it for supper while I talk to Hallon?"

Once Esmelda was out of the way, Petrilla told H'llon about Peder and Jen.

He frowned.

"We could have them at the weyr if they'd retrain – they know enough woodwork I guess to make it worthwhile – but I guess sailing is their life" he said.

She nodded.

"Besides, they'd be too proud" she told him.

"How does Peder get about?"

"Jen built a cart…he's only sixteen but he's good with his hands."

H'llon frowned.

"If I build Peder a chair with wheels that he can turn with his hands will he take that in return for covert work for the weyr do you think?"

"What, tell him you didn't like to ask legitimate sailors to go south and spy on the Oldtimers you mean?"

"Something like that" said H'llon "If they'd travel by dragon and help build boats at an …undisclosed location it would be useful. And if I say no more you can tell them your weyr contact was vague. But our wheeled chairs can be built to strap on dragonback – or at the tiller and can be released or tightened on a rope by karabiner for limited movement in a boat."

"I should think they'll be thrilled – so long as they believe they are going to pay their way" said Petrilla.

H'llon nodded.

"It's also be another way of getting firelizard eggs to gift to those who need them too" he said "They'll pay their way, it's no makework. They could solve several problems."

"Good. I can bargain well with them over that" said Petrilla "Jen won't take hand outs even though both of them give freely enough!"

H'llon laughed.

"Well I can't blame him for that!" he said "For I'd be the same. Good, that's a start."

"Can your healer get some herbs for winter ailments? Poley's wife has a cough often he said….if you want to make a difference, things like that would help too."

H'llon nodded.

"I'll put together a chest of stuff for you to pass out" he said "Or sell or barter to make people appreciate it more. And I'll get to work on that chair as soon as I'm sure no-one is going to attack you. L'gani'll help; he's seabred and understands sailing, and an amateur woodcrafter – a good one – into the bargain. Oh, your sisters send their regards by the way; I told them about you and they're looking forward to meeting you one day."

"Oh!" Petrilla was touched "That – that's really nice of them! What are they like?"

H'llon cheerfully embarked on telling her about Meliandra, I'linne and Ipominea, describing the younger ones particularly with obvious affection.

Petrilla liked the sound of them.

Perhaps one day she might move to the weyr and settle down after all!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

R'cal took Peder and Jen to the little island weyr and explained matters.

"We're thinking about setting up a Weyr here predominantly for ageing Riders who need warmer weather for aching bones; but you two seem sensible lads, so I'll go further for I don't think you're the types to panic."

"If we were, we'd not have survived" said Peder.

"Fair comment" nodded R'cal "We have several people who believe it is possible the Long Interval may be followed by a Long Pass; and knowing that such an event will leave many dragonriders exhausted and demoralised we thought a spare weyr that only had this island to cover for its local sphere of influence so that we could build a team of relief Riders who could take the duties from any weyr exhausted or with many injuries to give them time to recover."

"Grim; but your thinking makes sense" said Jen "If that's not an impertinence Blue Rider" he added hastily as Peder glared at him. He could not resist adding, "But how do we fit in?"

R'cal grinned boyishly.

"It's a bit hush-hush and we haven't yet told F'lar" he sad "We want to see how self sufficient we could be if we were a weyr-hold type arrangement, closer than usual weyr and hold relationships. We need a thorough survey of the caves near the sea and soundings too of what looks to my untrained eye to be a natural harbour. We've seabred Riders; but we can't always s spare them long enough to check things out properly. If you're willing to, we'd leave you, wood for boats and some others to help you to see how viable a seahold is here. You'd be fully provisioned and visited regularly. Would you be prepared to do that?"

"I'll say" said Peder quickly, enthusiasm writ large on his face.

"Well…" said Jen

"Will you spend some time with us in the Weyr looking at what notes we have so far and thinking about it?" asked R'cal "And our Healer will look at your back too, Peder I suspect it won't heal now for not being immobilised immediately, which at sea would be almost impossible: but we do have a lad – he's gone back to the Harper Hall to complete his training, but he's one of ours – who broke his back and it IS healing. He's got movement in his legs and he can crap to his own command."

"Fancy you dragonriders thinking of a thing like that!" said Jen "You don't think of weyrfolk crapping!"

Peder leaned over to poke his younger brother; but R'cal just laughed.

"We'd be pretty unwell if we didn't, lad! People are the same whatever job they do; we just do a more dangerous job than most – which is why we recruit a lot of seabred riders, because sailors know and understand danger as few landsmen can!"

"this chair is amazing" said Peder "Is it something dragonfolk use because you have a lot of injury?"

"It is now" said R'cal "It was devised for a fosterling of one of our Queenriders who was crippled by illness. Our Weyrwoodcrafter – who's as near to being my own fosterling as makes no odds, though he was effectively a man already when I took him under my wing – improved upon it. He's inventive is H'llon" said R'cal proudly.

"It's an excellent thing" said Peder "I feel so much more independent, I really think I can sail in most weather with this, with ropes and karabiners rigged for me."

"You take it careful" warned his brother "All right, Blue Rider; we'll visit the weyr with you and prepare to come back here. What do we earn if we carve out a Hold here for you?"

"The right to Hold it, obviously!" said R'cal.

"Aren't you going to offer that to more experienced men?" asked Peder.

"Lad, I'd rather see a brave, adaptable man Holding who's not constrained by preconceived ideas; and frankly, who dares should be the winner" said R'cal.

"Aren't there going to be problems Holding somewhere on Southern?" asked Jen shrewdly.

R'cal laughed.

"The beauty of this is that it isn't on Southern! You can see the Southern continent on a clear day, but this isn't part of it. Actually technically, this is part of the Eastern Isles, which has its own irony; though those who are exiled are dropped off far, far to the North of here. This hasn't been claimed by anyone but High Reaches Weyr. And that's the way we mean to keep it – us, and people who aren't stuffy old fools! And you never heard that opinion from me either" he added hastily.

Peder grinned.

"No, Blue Rider" he said.

One of Voll's little green firelizards brought the message to Petrilla that Peder and Jen would do very nicely thank you! It was obscurely enough worded in case read by the wrong eyes; but she understood well enough what was meant, and was very pleased! Doubtless H'llon would tell her more detail face to face another time; but it was kind of the weyr to let her know that matters were settled satisfactorily!

Petrilla was back in business, and with good working capital from the reward money for Lady Neesala's garnet; and a gushing letter of thanks from that lady that would act almost as well as a warrant if trustworthiness. Which was almost ironic; but very useful nonetheless. So Petrilla returned to her world of theft and fencing without worries.

Petrilla had learned some lapidiary skills from old Grissom but more jewellery crafting skills, his major field of knowledge. It was one reason she had wanted a cavern with an effective chimney; judicious building allowed her to make a small forge, big enough to deal with gold, silver and bronze in small quantities, to mend broken jewellery and melt down and make new settings using moulds carved from stone. Most marksmen would buy quite happily gems thus reset as being 'newly made' even if they suspected the source of the gems! Petrilla reflected that if she learned more about cutting gems from Voll she could probably even set herself up as a legitimate jeweller, lacking only Smithcraft knots.

It would not have been as much fun though!

Most of Petrilla's clients were seedy, furtive men whose eyes flicked around constantly and guiltily; and she did her best business during and after the Winter Gather when pouches were picked and wealthy women wearing all their Gather finery lost items of jewellery to nimble fingers in a crowded place. Items got dropped too, and lithe scavengers grabbed anything that sparkled in the snow before it was searched out and claimed. Many of THESE clients were scarce more than children.

One was indeed only a child perhaps six or seven turns old; with a tiny sister half his age, perhaps, holding tight to her brother's hand. He had a gold bracelet with a broken clasp.

"Please, Lady, they said as how you buy stuff" he piped in a firm treble "Do this be any good to sell? It were on the ground. Risa nutted the big boy in the bollocks so I could grab it first" he added proudly, squeezing his tiny sister's hand.

"That's a brave girl" approved Petrilla "And what's your name, lad? And do you have someone grown up who'll take the marks I give you?"

"I'm Varney, Lady. We don't have no-one no more. Ma died; I gotta feed Risa. Will it be enough for food? We ain't et for a couple o' days."

"Oh yes! I'll pay you for it and if you've a mind to stay there's more stew than I and my assistant can eat" said Petrilla. She could see ravenous longing in both little faces at the good smell that came from her cookpot. Crossbows were useful for more than just protection; Petrilla had brought down a wherry a few days before and there had been plenty of meat on it even at this time of turn, and the skin she had sold with the down still on to the Hold tanner too.

Varney and Risa were soon tucking in to good wherry stew while Petrilla counted out two marks in small denominations for them.

"What would you have trained to do if your mother had not died?" she asked.

Varney shrugged.

"Dunno. She'd of liked me to have a trade, but Holdless don't get apprenticeships so easy. They cost marks."

"Would you like a good schooling with decent harpers and the chance of a proper apprenticeship?" she asked.

"'Course I would. But then I couldn't care for Risa."

The poor child already had too many cares for his age and too well developed a sense of responsibility!

"You could if you were both fostered" said Petrilla, doling out a second helping.

"You offerin'?" Varney asked, looking interested.

"I live Holdless myself" said Petrilla "But I know they always like new people to live in the weyr, because they have lots of crafts there and always need new apprentices. And weyr ladies don't have babies easily, so they like extra children to foster for the ones that can't have babies. And I guess there's always the chance to stand for Impression too when you're older if you wanted to."

Varney thought about this.

"You want to ride on a dragon Risa?" he asked his sister.

She regarded him thoughtfully.

"Yar" she said and returned to the serious business of spooning in stew.

"Reckon it's some place to go" said Varney "If they treat her right."

It sounded a little lukewarm; but Petrilla was of the opinion that the boy at least was numbed by a combination of grief and the heavy responsibility of looking after his little sister. And credit to him that he had just accepted that responsibility as the only thing to do!

T'arla flew in with her weyrmate ostensibly to visit her Uncle Poley; Poley made no secret, the reverse in fact, of having Impressed relatives for he was proud of them! Frith may have risen, being sexually mature but going _Between_ was still a new skill and L'gal wanted Frith getting visualisation from Solpeth.

T'arla did not resent it at all; she knew that High Reaches had the best safety record for weyrlings surviving _Between_ training because of the high level of overtraining.

It was nice anyway, she thought, to see Poley and Zila and the kids and tell them how Ch'vul was doing, and invite the to visit the weyr; and then to return with two small passengers.

Varney took to flying like he was weyrbred already; but the whole business of too many changes in her small life was too much for Risa and she had to be comforted and found dry underlinen.

She would get used to it; and this was another pair for the childhold.

Varney, at the same age as Tefanny, Siriwenne and Abreall and no fear of dragons – indeed every desire to fly again as soon as possible – soon settled in, with Abreal delighted to have another boy his age, Marag being a turn younger and Mikas a turn older.

Risa happily made friends with Amira, M'rian's little girl, fostered by Assela; who also fostered M'kel's children, his daughters one and two turns older, but Amika seeming younger for being brain damaged at birth. Assela happily took fosterage of both Varney and Risa, being a loving and phlegmatic girl, and looking forward to taking Y'lara's baby son as soon as the Green Rider had weaned him. Most children brought in would be raised communally by several foster mothers chosen for the purpose, but these two were felt to show a good enough relationship with dragons that they should be raised with riders' children, for Risa had no fear of dragons themselves, only having been shocked going _Between_.

The consensus of the adults in the weyr was that Petrilla was doing well by the weyr to date!

Petrilla was feeling happy with the Weyr too; her little bronze firelizard had hatched and she was thoroughly enchanted by him! Once he was replete and snoring gently on her forearm, his tail wrapped affectionately round her wrist, she was able to look at him properly and marvel at the soft gleaming coppery bronze of his skin as she gently oiled it.

"What are you going to call him?" asked Esmelda, looking awed at the miniature dragon-like creature.

"I'm going to call him Griss in honour of the man who taught me that not all men are porcines; and taught me everything I know about jewels – because he's a jewel of a creature and he trusts me utterly" said Petrilla softly. "Yes, you can stroke him; they like being fussed, I'm told" as Esmelda put out a tentative hand then snatched it back.

Petrilla soon found out that having a firelizard enhanced her reputation, especially a bronze. It was reckoned that she had either done a favour for someone with some pretty good contacts or was a most excellent thief to have stolen a firelizard egg. It also made those who might try to intimidate her warier; having a firelizard on one shoulder hissing like a kettle was something of a deterrent to bad manners. Especially when Petrilla smiled blandly at one blustering thief and said,

"You know my little friend here can chew firestone like a dragon. It's not so big a flame as a dragon but I reckon you'd not be so loud with your face burned off."

The fellow backed down straight away, keeping a nervous distance from Griss!

Word went out that Lady Petrilla had her firelizard chew firestone before she did business; and suddenly she found herself treated with even more respect and circumspection than even her crossbow commanded!

The strangest client ever to visit Petrilla came cloaked heavily; the mode of movement was of a woman, but the cloak covered her to her feet and she kept the hood pulled well forward. Petrilla wondered if she fondly believed her gender was as concealed as her features.

"Oh! Do I call you Lady Petrilla?" she asked breathlessly.

"I am entitled by birth to the honorific" said Petrilla dryly "You, lady, have the advantage of me"

"Oh dear! one scarcely knows where to begin!"

Petrilla manfully refrained from replying tartly 'the beginning' and waved the woman to a stool she had purchased for Esmelda's comfort. Esmelda stood by the door and the woman glanced nervously at her as Petrilla emphasised her wave saying,

"Please take a seat."

"I – this is private."

"My associate is discreet. But if it is so private a matter she shall stand outside the curtain where she may listen and also deter would-be eavesdroppers" said Petrilla. With Griss and her crossbow she had no fear that any woman could hurt her so long as she remained alert; even if her visitor was not the silly little piece she sounded on first acquaintance.

The woman eased herself gingerly onto the stool – she was evidently used to more sturdy pieces of furniture – and spoke in a low voice.

"I – I suppose I should tell you the whole so you know why I am so desperate; it is a fantastical tale I admit! My name is Lady Dionne and my husband is Lord Begal, a connection of Lord Bargen and an administrator for him over the stables at High Reaches Hold" she paused and Petrilla nodded encouragingly "I – I had an indiscreet affair" she wallowed "With…..with the daughter of a visiting marksman. Her name is Meeda, her father is Ultayn of the Utul family. I suppose you think that's shocking."

"No not at all" said Petrilla "I can see that if a man seems tedious a woman might well turn to another woman to find satisfaction on the principle that another woman should know what she's going to like. It has the advantage of not leaving a pregnancy in its wake too."

"Oh! Er, yes. I mean, no" said Dionne. "Anyway, the problem is this; I gave her a necklace my husband had given to me and it's rather distinctive. Five star sapphires set in silver star-shaped mounts. And – and he – Begal – wants me to wear it at a dance Lord Bargen is holding."

"And you want Meeda tracked down and asked to return it?" asked Petrilla.

Dionne shook her head violently, unthinkingly shaking her hood back to reveal a prettily weak face.

"I already asked her – she's back again at the Hold – and she refused. Said it had been a gift and she had no intention of returning it, or even loaning it back in case she never saw it again" tears sparkled in her eyes. "She – she's changed; now it's over she's become so mercenary! And my husband suspects me of having an affair and giving away the star necklace, I know he does! How was I to know the horrid thing had been in his family for ages? I – I thought you might know someone….." she swallowed again, a gulp that was almost a sob "It – it's said you know thieves….one of my personal drudges knows someone who knows of you…. I thought if you could find someone I would pay to have it stolen back. After all" her eyes glittered with anger as much as tears "If she's treating it as a thing not a love token she doesn't deserve to have it!"

It was the first sign of animation Petrilla had seen in the woman and showed some backbone; coming here was, after all, less an act of courage than one of desperation! And there was something in what she said, of course. That her husband had presented her with so costly a piece of jewellery presumably as a love token suggested that maybe Lady Dionne did not deserve it either for so cavalierly giving it away; but then it was more likely just a token to show off his wealth around the neck of the possession called his wife. To feel in need of an affair with a woman did NOT suggest a harmonious matrimonial bond; and the woman was certainly afraid of her husband.

"I'll do what I can, Lady Dionne" said Petrilla "I'll send my firelizard to you when I have a message – I he and I can both have a clearer view of your face so he can find you, it's by far and away the most discreet way."

The hood shifted back a little further; and Petrilla surveyed and memorised the face that was as prettily vapid as the earlier glimpse had suggested.

"Poor lady" said Esmelda when Dionne had gone.

"Probably" said Petrilla "But let us first ascertain some facts. I THINK she was telling the truth; but she might be a clever little thief making up a story to get her hands on a singular piece of jewellery. I need to ask some questions."

Esmelda stared open mouthed; for all her careful cynicism, such a level of duplicity had never occurred to the labouring girl!

Petrilla soon ascertained that there was indeed a Lord Begal whose wife was called Dionne; and the description she had tallied with the appearance of the woman she had spoken to.

One of Petrilla's many contacts was an ancient jeweller resident in High Reaches Hold; and she travelled up to the Hold to speak to him, bringing a gift of the sugar-coated nuts she knew he could not resist.

"What can you tell me about a necklace of five star sapphires set in silver, Brell?" she asked him.

Brell laughed a wheezy laugh.

"You steal that, Lady, and you'll come unstuck! Belonged to Lord Bargen's great aunt that did, a betrothal gift and passed down the family. Belongs to Lord Bargel it do – or his Lady Wife, though there's some say Lady Bellanda of Riverbend reckons it should be hers through her husband and her being descended from the same old dear! You keep out of the whole business, Lady, for Lord Bargel's got a wicked temper, some say he's like his cousin Fax all over again! A nasty wicked temper!" he reiterated.

"My thanks, Brell" said Petrilla.

Dionne had been telling the truth then.

Time to find out all about Ultayn and Meeda!


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 **

Jemus was about in the Holdless cavern now; Petrilla had bought from him twice. And he was certainly capable of re-acquiring the bauble.

The problem was that Petrilla did not trust the little thief not to feel the temptation of holding on to the necklace once he had it in his larcenous little paws. The only person she felt capable of doing the job to her satisfaction was Voll.

Accordingly she wrote as detailed an account as she could fit onto the small message slip H'llon decreed was as much as a single firelizard should be asked to carry; and sent Griss to find Voll.

Firelizards were remarkably useful creatures and it certainly paid to train them painstakingly according to the weyr instructions!

Griss arrived back cheeping triumphantly; and an hour later Voll walked in.

"Fill me in fully" he said.

Petrilla told him the story first; then the background she had discovered on the bauble; then details about the Utul family, accredited traders out of the Tradercraft Hall, considering themselves a cut above such as the Mulgan train. They had fine Runnerbeasts and good convertible sledges that changed runners for axels and wheels in the summer, and the family gave themselves airs for their fine equipment. They paid for rooms in the main Hold to live in and trade out of during and after the Gather.

"Are you sure this mercenary little piece hasn't already sold it on, and that's why she refused its return?" asked Voll.

"No I'm not. I can't be. I've not seen her wear it; but then only a fool would wear a piece come by rather dubiously right under the eye of a bad-tempered original owner. And whatever Meeda may be, a fool isn't one of them" said Petrilla.

Voll nodded.

"I'll do some scouting; if she still has it I'll have it in the time it takes to flit _Between_. What's the agreed price?"

"I didn't make one; I wanted to check her story first" said Petrilla "If it checked out I figured that if I had control of the necklace I also had control of the price."

Voll nodded.

"Send her a message and ask her what it's worth to her to have it back" he said.

"Go teach your grandmother to hunt tunnel snake nests" said Petrilla amiably.

The message came back,

"I can't put together more than a hundred and fifty marks"

It was worth a lot to her then.

Petrilla waited until she heard from Voll.

The thief slipped through the bead curtain grinning, a coruscating galaxy of stars in his fingers. Petrilla gasped; it was beautiful!

"I guess Meeda dursen't sell it" Voll said "And I'll tell you something else. She was boasting to her brother that she could get marks for NOT wearing a bauble in public. Reckon your instincts were right – you were uncomfortable about Dionne's story, right?" Petrilla nodded and he added "Reckon the Utul girl was putting her own pressure on the Lady as well as her husband!"

Petrilla nodded. That fit very nicely.

"So much for being more respectable than the Mulgans!" she said in scorn "That's dirty work if you like! You'll spread that to the Mulgan train?"

"I will that!" said Voll.

"Well it explains why it was worth so much as this to her" said Petrilla, showing him the message.

He whistled.

"Are you going to try to sting her for more?"

Petrilla shook her head.

"Poor silly creature, I haven't the heart. I thought I'd write a grudging 'I suppose that will do' to her; and tell her to come and collect it."

Voll nodded.

"For that price you can hire some jolly boys to see she gets safe home too" he said.

Petrilla nodded.

"It would be a temptation if anyone got wind of it. Perhaps you'll hire me some muscle, just keep them around and I'll tell her about them so she doesn't get scared when you and they join her; I'm concerned in case that husband of hers has men jump her if he fathoms out that she's buying it back, just to embarrass her and the lumps she gets from being mugged extra punishment on top of the agony of fear of losing it again. From my researches he seems to be the type that goes in for such refinements of cruelty; and I must say I'm sorry for their kids, especially the daughters."

"Well from what I've heard of him too, it wouldn't surprise me either" said Voll "And it's be nice to have something to lay against him if he does try it; I certainly will be going along!"

Lady Dionne cried in relief when she saw the necklace and fell on Petrilla's startled neck to kiss her warmly.

Petrilla endured the kissing long enough to tactfully ask for her fee.

Dionne paid up meekly and Petrilla checked all the large denomination pieces, a hundred-mark piece – Petrilla had only rarely seen these – and five ten-mark pieces. Her check was covert enough that Dionne never knew her integrity was at all doubted; and Petrilla was satisfied.

It was doubtful that the silly creature even knew enough to realise that forgeries existed, let alone have the brains or the courage to try to use one.

"I arranged you bodyguards out of your anticipated fee to get you home safely as part of the service" said Petrilla "They await without; they don't know what you're carrying, only that you're nervous and need escort."

"Oh! Can – can they be trusted?"

"They can be trusted not to stiff ME" said Petrilla grimly "Stay safe, Lady Dionne" she did not add 'and try not to be such a little idiot another time'. Either the woman would learn; or she would not.

When Dionne had gone, Petrilla went to her own mark chest and drew out five mark pieces and handed them and a ten-mark piece to Esmelda as her tithing; and she gave the hundred mark piece to Voll.

"You did the hard work; will that go to your fund?" she asked.

He nodded.

"My thanks, Lady Petrilla; that's generous for you did a lot of my legwork for me."

She shrugged.

"We seem to make a good team. After paying the jolly boys I put away thirty two marks, and that's plenty to work with. But you can satisfy my curiosity by telling me how you got into their rooms long enough to search for the jewel!"

"Heh, easy – I got the grooms in charge of visiting beasts drunk by spiking their beer with hooch; then I sent my girls" he stroked his little green firelizards "To brig me some of the weyrartist's paints. I decorated the best Utul mare with a fascinating rash, borrowed the knots of a Hold groom and dashed in to tell them about it. The whole blamed lot went to gawp and worry and I rummaged the girl's pack at my leisure."

"Impudent creature, aren't you?" she laughed.

He bowed floridly.

"My second name!"

One of the things that Petrilla applied herself to between doing business was learning more drum measures that she had been taught as of Right as one of the Ranking; H'llon had suggested it and had sent a curious teaching aid. He called it a book; and it consisted of leaves of paper sewn together at one edge, enclosed for protection in a hard, cloth-covered cover. The drum measures were neatly laid out with their progressions and beautifully legible explanations of the patterns.

"It's printed" H'llon explained "Each letter is carved and can fit into a frame to print off the same page over and over. Then we sew them up and cover them when someone needs a book of instruction."

"Marvellous!" said Petrilla "Do you make other books? Herbals and cooking books? Easy books for learning to read?"

"Well the first two are passed on so easily by word of mouth I hadn't seen the use for them" said H'llon "We're working on simple books for the Harpers to use with children."

"You idiot man, it's easy to see YOU have a weyrmate to coddle you" said Petrilla, shaking her head. H'llon grinned.

"I have, as it happens, though I'm getting precious little coddling right now, her little Queen still needs a lot of care!"

"Oh is that the lass who was attacked by the girl who now drudges? Poor kid I heard about that!"

"Yes, that's right. You might keep an ear out in case Lasolly ever does find remorse. And also please tell me why I'm an idiot."

"Not yet at least – remorse, I mean" said Petrilla "Just sorry she got punished. She's still cursing the weyr and all in it. Why are you an idiot? Because people would pay good marks for books of practical knowledge, just because something is passed down by word of mouth in one family doesn't mean all families know it! And different regions have different specialities that are unknown to those outside except those of you who can flit anywhere in the space of a few heartbeats! And I wager you'd do well out of books of ballads and stories; people always like stories."

H'llon brightened.

"I'll get on to that then. Petrilla, you're a woman….."

"You noticed?"

"Believe it or not, yes….I used to be a bit naïve I know but I did grow up….what I mean is, you have sort of normal instincts, not like our madcaps at the weyr for whom clothes are NOT high on their list of priorities…."

"All right, yes, I am interested in clothes and you slanderous beast, your weyrwomen are always beautifully turned out, so what are you driving at?"

"Our weyrartist thought there might be a market in sample books of painted facsimiles of fabric patterns availabel and also of drawings of new fashions to show around, perhaps in partnership with the Weavercraft Hall" said H'llon.

He was unprepared for the squeal of delight.

"oh YES!" Petrilla clapped her hands girlishly "To sell to Weavercraft Marksmen you mean, to travel and take orders with? A pattern identified by a number and a style to have it made into likewise numbered for identification?"

"I hadn't got that far, but I like it" said H'llon. "Good, I can go back to Geriana with ideas; she's climbing the walls right now because she hurt her arm and can't flit about with her lovers like she usually does. And even though it's healing, she's still weyrbound because she's pregnant so she needs a project to keep her from flying into little pieces."

"Tell her to be grateful and to try holing up in a Holdless cavern over the winter" said Petrilla dryly.

"She used to be Holdbred; it's the freedoms she's found with is makes her hate confinement the more" said H'llon "But I take your point. That main cavern isn't fit for human habitation."

"Oh believe me, it's luxurious – there are necessaries provided" said Petrilla.

H'llon shook his head, disgusted.

"The people there all seem miserable; I feel confined in there even knowing I can leave. I can't see that even a majority of them are criminals, and if they're not I can't see why they choose a life that is so degrading and horrible!"

Petrilla sighed.

"It isn't choice, Bronze Rider, it's economics."

"Economics?"

"Holds have only a certain amount they can, er, hold, no pun intended. In an Interval? Wooden extension buildings get built. Then Fall comes. And the least productive get kicked out – the elderly, the orphans, the halt, the blind, the halfwits and other such riffraff."

H'llon's face darkened.

"That's disgusting!" he declared.

"Humans who are running scared and scrabbing for survival and some measure of security usually ARE disgusting" said Petrilla dryly. "They say that newly hatched firelizards will turn to cannibalism; I've not seen that amongst people, but I have heard rumours. And it's no different really – sacrificing the weakest for the survival of the strongest. At base, in a crisis, many people are no better than animals."

"Well that definitely confirms my decision" said H'llon "I was thinking of asking T'bor if we couldn't build a Holdless cavern outside the weyr – with proper facilities of course – and pay for piece work done, if people staying there wish to, but at least see that there was a safe haven. And we may have to extend our caring for children to caring for the sick and elderly too" he sighed.

"You'll get innundated"

"How can we not, though?" he asked, simple.

That was what set the weyrfolk apart, Petrilla decided; that the answer was a simple 'how can we not?'

They would find a way.

H'llon had also fulfilled his promise to bring a chest of cures for ailments; and having that was a good way to help people out. Petrilla had a shrewd idea that the weyr wanted her to do all she could, and would make up any deficit in her earnings that giving her time cost her, and if necessary would offer her succour; so she felt able to go further in helping others than she had dared before. She admitted to herself quite candidly that she was the same as any other in prioritising her own survival, though she prided herself at least on avoiding the callousness some degenerated into.

Petrilla took into her care an old auntie whose name was Marilka; and told her she might pay for the medicine for her cough by tending the fire while Petrilla was otherwise occupied.

It gave the old woman a warm place to go too.

Petrilla was the first to admit that there were some of the elderly that she preferred not to go anywhere near; the childish and the hopelessly incontinent both disgusted her and filled her with an indefinable fear about growing old. Marilka was shrewd enough, and continent so long as she had not far to go; and Petrilla had a bucket under a chair with a hole in the seat in a curtained niche for her own use at night that suited the old woman very well. Hobbling all across the communal cavern was a hard business; and when Petrilla had come across her she had been coughing and sobbing with embarrassment because a coughing fit half way had caused her to be too late.

Petrilla was glad she had risked the old woman being clean enough if the facilities were on hand; Marilka had a fund of stories, some about people now quite prominent, in their less savoury youths. Such knowledge might prove useful one day! And the old woman also kept the fire and watched the cave and was even starting to hobble less in a warm room with good food.

Petrilla had improved the room's warmth by hanging a blanket up outside the sound curtain, which also made it even harder for anyone to come in noiselessly though it did remove her advantage of being able to see if anyone was there. She left it open during the day, therefore, unless there was a stiff wind blowing right down the cleft that opened onto the cliff face down the passage from the two little caves, a perfect place to empty the necessary bucket!

They ate well too,

Petrilla went out with other huntsmen after wild wherries; and her business meant she could always pay for fish as well as scavenging for shellfish and seakale like everyone else. Esmelda and the Petlengro children collected driftwood; and they wanted for no more wood after the incident of the careless carter.

Petrilla had gone out alone to hunt, and had bagged a fine brace of gontermorras, taking a foray out during their intermittent hibernations. She came back along the trail, and came upon a carter braving the icy and muddy track between High Reaches Hold and its Port Hold. He had just been freeing a wheel from the mire and gazed with lustful admiration on the attractive redhead.

He grinned speculatively.

"Well now, pretty, I'm in the mood for a lie down, you fancy lying down with me? I've some good warm rugs to roll in!" he said.

"I think you are mistaken" said Petrilla, coldly "I am not looking for an amorous encounter my fellow" cold hauteur sometimes worked best of all, convincing some men that touching her would bring the wrath of the ranking on their heads.

It didn't always work.

"Oo, hoity- toity!" said the carter "Don't come the fine lady with ME wench – you've no attendants!"

With which he attempted to grab her an force his mouth on hers.

Petrilla kneed him in the crotch and whacked him sharply on the head with the butt of her crossbow.

As his language was intemperate and threatening, she sought a diversion; and slipped a branch under the wheel of the still unstable cart.

It toppled beautifully; and as he had unhitched his runnerbeasts from it, rolled right over.

The logs that were his load went right over the cliff into the sea and Petrilla left him gawping after them swearing in baffled fury.

She knew how the current ran north; and it was the work of minutes to rouse up Esmelda and a few sturdy men to drag them inshore before they reached High Reaches Porthold proper; and thence to haul them to the Holdless caverns on ropes. Even dividing them up amongst her helpers gave her fuel for a goodly while, and plenty for her little forge!

All clouds have silver linings, thought Petrilla; though doubtless the proddy carter did not agree right now!

Serve him right for his presumption!


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Marilka expressed a wistful desire to be able to knit, but having o wool and having had to sell her needles to by food she had no means.

Petrilla sent Esmelda to ask the Weavercraft marksman at the Port Hold about needles; and suggested asking him how many skeins of wool would be needed for a sweater for a big man – 'like Hallon' said Petrilla.

While Esmelda, unable to knit, was doing her careful best to explain what her auntie wanted it was sheer child's play for Petrilla to steal a whole sackful of different wools. With what Esmelda carefully paid for, Marilka would have enough to occupy her all winter; and Petrilla urged the old woman to make things for others who needed clothing.

The leggings, sweater and cap for the expected child of the heavily pregnant loving wench must needs wait for another baby.

The child came shortly after the dawn and was dead before the sun set on that brief winter's day.

Petrilla probably mourned the child more than his mother; who declared philosophically that it was one less mouth to feed and bad for business anyway having a brat underfoot and as a boy couldn't even be trained up into the business.

The little suit was laid away; and Marilka turned her attention to much needed blankets, a square at a time to be sewn up as needed.

Blankets or no, the cold took its toll on the older population as on the youngest. The seamen of the Port Hold did at least take the bodies out to sea for the fishermen's farewell ceremony; and after one cold night they had four elderlies and the sickly child of another group of itinerant workers.

It was another reason Petrilla feared elderly aunties and uncles; you could smell death on some of them. And it was the main reason she hated winter.

The chances were that the blankets Marilka knitted saved some lives; another sickly child turned the corner after being warmly wrapped, and provided with stew from Petrilla's own pot as she continued to improve. It did not make the ones who died easier to think on however.

Once a sevenday, Petrilla paid Zila Petlengro to come and do her laundry and take advantage of the fire to do her own in hot water too. She was usually wont to pick a sturdy looking trader's wife or itinerant worker who looked trustworthy enough; but it seemed sensible to continue the alliance between herself and Poley's family. Their little girl, Feeni, was too young to be any real help but did her solemn best, with great aplomb and self importance. The boys Garriden and Leusar, ten and eight turns old, felt that woman's work was beneath them; but they made themselves useful in other ways being good at gathering driftwood for the fire to supplement the logs.

Poley's cousin Chola arrived, having cadged a lift on a sled, moaning about how his oldest daughter Meeri had been dragged off on search.

"Just as she's old enough to earn a mark or two in holdefolk's furs too" he grumbled "I could have made a good thing out of her virginity at the Spring Gather, now she's being wasted being had for free by dragonmen and having that harper rubbish taught her too!"

"Well I'm glad" said Poley, sharply "she'd be wasted as a loving wench, bright and musical girl like that, like granddad Bavol. You're a grasping fool, Chola and he'd be ashamed of you!"

"They ain't got no right!" whined Chola "Depriving a man of his livelihood!"

Zila was a quiet, inoffensive woman; but she had her limits.

She had finished with the washing water; and poured it, still hot, right over Chola's head.

He shrieked as though it was still only just off boiling.

"You great lump!" said Zila, her arms akimbo, her eyes flashing "YOUR livelihood? You think a girl is for nothing but selling her body to make marks for you?"

"Well what else use are they?" whined Chola "And bad enough Tassarla threatened me with a knife and run off to the weyr, now my Meeri's gone too!"

"T'arla" said Poley "She's T'arla now. Give the weyrwoman her due honorific, porcine face; she's more important now than you can ever imagine! No, don't bother to call her anything; you sully her and your daughter both by even mentioning them. Just get out; and stop whining!"

"Huh, you can't boast, they took Chavul, I suppose he's being buggered by every Blue Rider going, pretty boy like him, even with a claw hand!"

"Chola" said Petrilla deciding to take a hand "I advise you to shut your mouth concerning Bronze Rider Ch'vul; or I can find enough contacts to whistle up a brace of older Bronze Riders ready to shut it for you. And if your wife ever has the sense to leave you to seek refuge in the weyr, as kin of those of their own they'd take her and the kids right willingly" she raised her voice to carry to the cowering woman and her assorted children "And I'd not blame her in the least. In fact I'd think better of her for leaving a bullying hog like you; and I'd even escort her!"

Chola bared his teeth at her; but he knew who she was and was wary of her. He still had a fine white scar down his manhood from a time he had decided to just get his tackle out and take what he took for a loving wench – not intending to pay – and had learned his mistake at the end of her skinning knife.

"So much for brotherly support!" he sneered at Poley "Come on woman, we need a place to stay!"

"My charming kinsman" sighed Poley.

"Get his wife and kids up here and we'll send for some dragonmen to take them" shrugged Petrilla.

"Not a chance" shrugged Zila "Mimi's a silly bovine; I can hear her now without asking, for I've tried to get her to leave him before and come along with us. She'll say 'but he's my maaaan…I loooove him….he don't meeean nuthin' by it'" she assumes a whiney, bleating voice to imitate her sister in law.

Petrilla shuddered.

"Not even for the sake of the children?"

"Huh, he come before them by a long chalk" snorted Zila "Poor little sprouts. And she say he don't hit them about much and only for their own good. Her, she's as much use as a cheese cook-pot!"

Petrilla shrugged.

"Well, you can only help those as will accept it" she said "With luck the ones next to this Meeri will wise up and leave."

"The two boys? Forget it. Chips of the old block are Pov and Dannor" grunted Poley "And skilful thieves already too I shouldn't wonder! Next girl down? Turn or two maybe. Maybe. She's the same age as our Feeni, is Truffi; at least she's not old enough to worry about having to earn as a loving wench yet."

"Well, we can hope Meeri may take her sister with her one day – for the child's sake" said Petrilla.

Having once mentioned contacts with dragonfolk to scare Chola, Petrilla decided to sit Marilka and Esmelda down and explain the whole to them.

"You must keep it secret" she said "There are those who would at best shun us; or at worst seek to kill us because they would mistrust what I do – for such would undoubtedly misconstrue the weyr's motives and mine; we should be seen as spies. I don't like to put you at risk by knowing but it's going to be increasingly hard to conceal and your help would be valuabel in helping people out."

"Like you helped me" said Esmelda.

"No, you helped yourself. You saw an opportunity of escape and took it" said Petrilla.

"Like you helped ME" said Marilka

Petrilla shrugged

"It has become mutually beneficial however" she said.

Marilka smiled quietly

"My dear, you don't have to pretend to be all hardboiled and businesslike with us. We know the real and generous Petrilla."

"No I'm not" said Petrilla seriously "Oh I've always helped out a little – nobody is an island and all that sort of thing – but I couldn't afford to get as involved, I couldn't do as much without knowing that I have weyr backing and their financing. I wouldn't dare; being a fence is good business but it's still as precarious as any Holdless occupation."

"Can the weyr help oldsters by providing wool and paying aunties to knit for them?" asked Marilka "They must need plenty of winter woollies to go off to fight Thread on days that are not cold enough to freeze it to crackdust but are cold enough to notice."

"I'll certainly ask" said Petrilla "And those that can't see so good any more or who've not got enough memory left to knit garments might make squares for blankets for the children they're taking in, the orphans."

Marilka nodded.

"You find out from that handsome big Rider of yours – he is a Rider, isn't he? – and I'll organise the aunties and those uncles as can knit."

Petrilla flushed ruefully.

"He's not my Bronze Rider" she said regretfully. "If he was….well, anyway, he has a weyrmate, one of their newest Queenriders."

"Don't worry my dear, I'm sure the right man will come along for you" said Marilka, patting the younger woman's cheek. "Aye, and for Esmelda too. I had to wait til I was nearly thirty afore my Joop came along; and not so long that I had him by some counts" she sighed "But they're sweet memories."

"What happened? If you don't mind me asking" said Petrilla.

"Oh the silly idealistic fool must only defy Fax and tell him that the Lady Gemma should not be dragged to Ruatha so late in her pregnancy and her ill" said Marilka "And of course she shouldn't; but telling him never was going to do anything but cause trouble. And he got lucky at that; Fax only ran him through. If the beast hadn't been in a hurry he'd have had Joop whipped to death. I suppose he had to do it" she added "Joop I mean. Lady Gemma was a good mistress."

Petrilla's eyes widened.

"You know Lady Elexa as was then?" she said.

"Aye, poor child" nodded Marilka "So beautiful, so scared to be wed to that old….." she finished with a rude noise "That was right before Joop spoke out; things add up that make you snap I suppose."

"Then you belong in the weyr of right if you wanted to serve L'exa and her daughter" said Petrilla. Marilka stared.

"I doubt she'd remember me anyway."

"If she didn't she's still unyielding about duty towards dependants" said Petrilla "I've seen her arrange positions for nubile daughters of drudges to get them away from her brother; and she's Impressed a Queen too, you know; it's not just anyone who does that!"

Marilka looked wistful.

"Well….perhaps you would remember me to her; but I'd be a fine one doing my duty to her if I don't do what the weyr asked and organise these aunties, if they approve the scheme."

oOoOo

L'exa herself flew in with J'red as her lift, Elith being just a baby still and not big enough even to take a passenger let alone go _Between_! The Riders came ostensibly distributing medicines and advice to the Holdless, and Calla along too and healer apprentice Green Rider S'ealle too. Arth was a strong Brown for an Oldtimer; indeed by anyone's standards; and made light of carrying three passengers and a chest of medicines.

L'exa was not the most effusive of people; but even so Marilka found herself embraced.

"I recall you of course" said L'exa "You cleaned the girls' room and found time to play and tell stories. I'm sorry – so much has happened! Your husband was a good man – he was assistant to the steward was he not?"

Marilka nodded, tears in her eyes.

"J'red and I are going to try for a baby" said L'exa "Would you foster my child?"

"Oh my lovely lady, I'd love to; but I'm not so spry as I was, I don't know if I could manage!"

"Pick a good strong girl here or at the weyr to do the physical stuff; that's the least important. I want my baby loved when I'm too busy; a second mother" said L'exa.

"Then I'll do that gladly!" said Marilka.

"Weyr medicine will also help you get spryer" said L'exa.

"Good food has already made a difference Lady L'exa" said Petrilla.

"I'm sure it has" said L'exa "She's certainly a different woman to those poor aunties in the main cavern. And there's no 'Lady' any more Lady Petrilla."

"Surely it's an honorific to a Queenrider?" said Petrilla "And if you're wishful to cast it off to someone vaguely associated with the weyr I should think that a 'lady' to my name is quite unnecessary."

L'exa grinned.

"Shall we stop stalking around each other with hackles raised and be friends then?" she said "I've found that making friends is a very pleasant experience; and you know enough about me after all!"

It had been Petrilla who had provided the lurweed Lady Elexa – as she had been – had used to poison her brother to stop him raping her daughter.

Petrilla grasped the hand she held out.

"We've had rather wary upbringings you and I" she said "I guess we can unbend enough to understand each other!"

It was put about that the weyr needed warm clothes, especially children's clothes and blankets in preparation for their orphans; and Marilka was picked as a suitable person to be paid to supervise the efforts of others.

J'red and L'exa kicked out – quite literally – a group of Bitran card sharpers who had taken over a comfortable cavern with a chimney hole; and established the knitting aunties in there.

"And our weyrwoodcrafter is bigger than me" said J'red to the evictees "And less even tempered. And he'll be dellivering fuel so they can knit properly with warm fingers so if you come back, so help you he'll snap you in two like this" and he proceeded to break several of their dragonpoker face cards.

The Bitrans fled, muttering.

"How nice to just be able to bully people like that" said Petrilla.

L'exa gave a grin of sheer impish enjoyment.

"It's a wonderful feeling!" she said.

"Of course one should not abuse it" said J'red "Me, I'm an Oldtimer; I know too well that things can get out of hand."

L'exa laid a hand on his arm.

"I can't see you ever abusing your position, dear J'red" she said softly.

He smiled down at her; and Petrilla felt an intruder with the love that shone from his eyes when he looked at the Queenrider!

Wool arrived; and needles; and an instruction that Marilka should oversee the feeding of the aunties from the monies provided to make sure they all ate properly. They might knit what they choose; for there would always be children of all sizes to cater for. And adult riders too!

"And a child particularly in need is a lad with a damaged spine" said L'exa "Who was born with the bone and spine cord exposed. He's a turn and a half now, but small for his age; he'll want long tops over woollen trousers to double the layers."

"I'll do them myself, my dear, My Lady" said Marilka firmly.

"Thank you" said L'exa. "He's kind of fostered by the woodcrafters at the moment, so if you're able to put a tree pattern across they'd be very pleased."

"Not a problem" said Marilka "Aye, we won't just knit warm things, we'll see these unloved babes have pretty things too. And you'll maybe be wanting me to sort out which of these aunties might be spry enough to help out in playrooms?"

"Excellent" said L'exa "We can't take them all; but even those who aren't spry who have the patience to teach knitting and such would help. We want out orphans to grow up with good skills."

"Leave it to me" said Marilka "With Lady Petrilla to help you'll have all you need."

Petrilla was glad that Marilka was prepared to deal with the aunties! And also pleased and amazed at how much the old woman had blossomed under responsibility – and the chance to help L'exa!

It sometimes seemed that she, L'exa and Esmelda might just as well have been Marilka's fosterlings!

And that was not an unpleasant feeling.

The old woman reminded her of her own grandmother.

_A/N No I'm not exaggerating Mimi's foolishness over her abusive husband; I have had experience with battered women[long story] and all too many of them really are that hopeless. It kinda makes anyone trying to give them a backbone want to take over the battering at times by shaking some sense and courage into them. Dear me, with Mimi and the wet Dionne poor Petrilla has her share of abused women around her... _


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N Thanks Geowyn; and you are of course quite right! And, too, my hat off to you... Dionne gets the message sooner - coming up in later chapters; Mimi's story is more complex and will be covered in a Harper story, that follows Meeri. And yes, there are lots more stories... many of them addressing issues I feel stongly about, obliquely or up front. _

**Chapter 7**

It was Petrilla's habit to leave the seacaves before spring set in, hiring transport on a sled of some visiting carter – of which there were usually plenty – and she asked Marilka,

"Are you coming with me on my travels or staying here? Or did you want me to stay?"

"My dear, I think I ought to stay and oversee the aunties. Lady L'exa has promised me a firelizard egg to send messages and I'll be fine. You mustn't break your habits, it would be remarked upon."

"Oh I break habit occasionally" said Petrilla "If I anticipate a good deal in the offing. Like I shall mention looking to travel at some point to Igen; all news eventually passes through the Igen caverns, because so many people congregate there. Lord Laudey and his Lady, Doris, are generous and provide daily soup and bread."

"He sounds a good man" said Marilka "I wager the Weyr will want to talk to him."

"Trouble is, it means treading on the toes of Ista Weyr; and with the Weyrwoman so ill, D'ram's not himself, or so I understand it" said Petrilla. "I expect they'll sort something out."

"Oh I'm sure they will" said Marilka comfortably. "Don't worry about me, child, I'll be fine like I said. The Bitrans won't dare come back."

"Oh Lady Petrilla, will you mind if I stay with Marilka?" asked Esmelda "We've such a cosy cave here; and I could go to the weyr with her and raise babies. I've always wanted to have babies and be settled and have a normal life. And I could help at the weyr with their farming too!"

Petrilla smiled.

"Do so by all means, Esmelda" she said "You've been a great help to me; but Marilka needs you more as a fine bodyguard. And I'm sure you'll be very happy at the weyr!"

It did not displease her.

A female bodyguard was not always taken seriously anyway, which meant that, on the move, Esmelda would have to fight more often than a man of the same capabilities. Sometimes flinty eyes and a crossbow – now backed up by a firelizard – could do more than a bodyguard not likely to be taken seriously. Besides, she had sheltered Esmelda somewhat from her clients; that would not always be possible. And it was a pity to let the woman see too much of the rampant dishonesty of life, however much of a cynic Esmelda might believe herself to be!

Marilka and Esmelda had their futures sorted out; there would be others.

Carney the crooked marksman and his crony Maruss were taking passage on the same sled Petrilla had chosen; and they glared at their fellow passenger. She smiled brightly and wished them 'good day' as though she had not foiled their wicked schemes!

Carney had been forced to rely on his proper trade, buying and selling; his trade goods supplemented by items carved and turned by Maruss, who set up a pole lathe for that purpose over the winter.

H'llon, visiting, had needed restraining not to roar imprecations at the poor quality of the hastily and inadequately finished goods.

Petrilla had suggested that the best way to defeat Marus was for H'llon's apprentices to show off how much better goods they could produce for the weyr craftstalls, and have some on sale to the Holdless too.

H'llon had agreed, but still muttering. He replaced the spoon Petrilla had bought – having broken her own – from good hardwood.

"Maple won't splinter" he said "Not like these rough pine spoons he's making. And there's nothing on maple to spoil the food either."

It was the sign of the consummate craftsman; not only could he carve deftly and quickly, but he knew how to pick the right wood for the job and knew why!

SUCH a pity he was taken.

oOoOo

Petrilla travelled south first, to Riverbend Hold, Held by Holder Marlov and his volatile but efficient wife Bellanda, who probably deserved the star necklace more than Bargel and his idiot wife, for Riverbend was a well run Hold that had survived the depredations of Fax through Marlov's father Marrer pretending to be a slack jawed half-wit who nodded and agreed to everything Fax said and unaccountably managed to avoid doing a thing he was told. There were plenty of spare caves here that attracted the Holdless in the old river cliffs; but Petrilla did not fancy them for the whole winter even in the warmer low-lying valley that Riverbend occupied. Those not taken up with Holdings proper tended to be shallow and a trifle damp; and the facilities provided consisted solely of buckets, pitch-lined ones for necessaries and scoured maple ones for fetching water; and the responsibility of the user to clean them out after use. It was still more than many Holders provided even so.

The advantage of the Riverbend caves was the provision of lessons for Holdless children under Marlov's cousin Arfan, a Harper. If it was an advantage; Petrilla had heard him described and 'not much good; barely Arf-an 'arper' by one of his own kin, so how much benefit was to be gained may have been dubious.

Finvar Utul, a cousin of the Utul girl from whom Voll had liberated the star necklace, was there with his six-turn-old son Coll to gain some learning.

The first time Petrilla had met Finvar and Coll she had threatened to kill Finvar for the bruises all over Coll; but Coll had cried and clung to his father and Finvar had explained with weary patience that the bruises, headaches, tiredness and bleeding gums were caused by an illness the Healer Hall had told him was incurable.

"I shan't have him long" he sighed "I try to make his life as happy as possible; please don't make it harder, Lady."

Once she had understood, Petrilla had been contrite; and did her best to find treats for Coll, especially during his frequent illnesses. She suspected she would find the pair here, and had asked H'llon for one of his teaching books, with woodblock pictures and some cheerful rhymes. The woodcrafter had told her that it was a project he had just completed for the Harperweyr and so was able to oblige readily, refusing to take any marks for it when she explained Coll's plight.

"Tell his father he's always welcome to rest a while in the weyr" he had said.

Coll was delighted with his book and hugged and kissed Petrilla, oblivious of the bruises that developed - as she watched - on his skinny arms from the fierceness of his embrace.

"'Tis a costly gift to be sure; you shouldn't ha' got such me Lady" said Finvar, longingly but reproachfully.

"I know a woodcrafter who prints words as well as pictures" said Petrilla "He has fosterlings the boy's age; and one of them was born without legs. He understands, you see" she looked round quickly to check they were not overheard, especially by Carney. "He's weyrwoodcrafter at High Reaches Weyr and he said you'd be welcome to stay there any time. They've good Harpers there, you know; and if you carted for them I should think you could stay there indefinitely and leave Coll while you were out with the cart."

Finvar scratched his head and thought.

"Well I ain't never been dependant on no-one so I haven't, not even the posh branch of the family; but Coll get weaker as I watch him, reckon he deserve a decent place to spend his last months."

"You think it's so close?" Petrilla was shocked and she felt tears sting the backs of her eyes.

"Poor little sprout haven't hardly been outa the furs all winter, with one thing then another" he said "It's damp here….but he like to read, since Arfan learned him last winter, and Lady Mavelly what's married to Arfan she make sure he done visit him even in the furs and bring things for him to read on loan. Reckon I might give it a go" he added.

Petrilla thought the weyr would take to a man who battled for his son's life and as much happiness for the boy as he could bring. It was well Finvar had a cart, though, for the boy to ride on; she doubted he would have survived so long riding a mle or on foot.

"Reckon I'll go as soon as the first winds blow off the snow and freeze the mud" ruminated Finvar.

"I'll send Griss to let them know you're coming" Petrilla said "They can have weyrlings overfly to keep an eye out for you to check you're not in trouble; if Coll falls ill or the cart sticks they can lift him in ahead while you manhandle the cart."

"Reckon you they'd do that?" he was amazed "Sure, and haven't I always reckoned dragonriders were a snotty lot."

Petrilla laughed.

"Not my woodcrafter friend and his friends" she said.

"Well, I'll believe it when I see it; but I'll try near anything for Coll" said Finvar.

Petrilla thought that maybe warm caverns such as one would find at the weyr might even give the boy a longer life than the uncertainty of trekking about from damp cavern to damp cavern; the caves left for the use of the Holdless anywhere were those caves not considered good enough for Holderfolk.

She strongly suspected that once the weyr built a Holdless cavern it would rapidly fill to overflowing; for they would do it with typical efficiency and produce something of unprecedented comfort!

It was the task of the woman Aswenne to check the cleanliness of the Holdless caverns at Riverbend and to make sure the necessary buckets had been emptied and washed; and to chivvy those using them if necessary. Most people treated her circumspectly; she was said to be prone to insane rages and to have slit the throat of Holder Marlov's nephew for getting too fresh with her. Petrilla strongly suspected that there was more to it than that; Bellanda treated the woman with – slightly forced – tolerance and kindness.

Bellanda was not sure how to treat Petrilla however,

She had known Petrilla as a child, knowing the girl's mother better from the various meetings of the Ranking at big Hold entertainments. That the girl Petrilla had chosen to become Holdless instead of concentrating on a respectable espousal -wherein she might firmly take over the reins of the household and control a husband – puzzled Bellanda. It was not, after all, as though Petrilla were the meek type that would let any husband do as he liked!

As a point of fact, Bellanda obeyed Marlov if he felt strongly enough about any matter to put his foot down; for one thing it was a rare enough occurrence to be remarkable and to take her by surprise; and for another she was actually extremely fond of her husband. But in Bellanda's view of the world, the women took the decisions and the men took the blame!

Her inability to understand Petrilla meant that Bellanda would nod to the younger woman politely enough; but avoided conversation! Indeed, she preferred not to address Petrilla at all, not being sure if it were correct or no to call her 'Lady'; Bellanda hated being unsure over any matter of etiquette and neither wished to insult Petrilla nor encourage pretension if she should NOT use an honorific! The problem was easiest solved by being ignored!

It is to be said that Petrilla took a mildly malicious pleasure in Bellanda's uncertainty, and enjoyed accosting her to bow civilly, smile, and pass the time of day whilst watching Bellanda avoid naming her.

Sometimes Petrilla was like that.

Even Bellanda needed Petrilla's services sometimes however and she was forced to seek the Holdless woman out!

"Oh, er, I wonder if you can help me, my dear" said the Holder's wife. She did NOT like having to ask.

"I'll do my best, Lady Bellanda" said Petrilla "Anything for the mother of a weyrwoman."

Bellanda glowed in pride.

The essentially matriarchal setup of the weyr pleased her sense of tidiness.

"It's, er, my necklace" she said "It…appears to have come loose; I lost it somewhere about the market place yesterday."

Riverbend had a weekly market outside, the caverns being disparate and scattered. Many Holda moved their marketing outside in clement weather but Riverbend had no single big cavern to house such at any time. When weather was too poor – a rare occurrence in this mild valley – the market was just cancelled.

"Is that the one with the pearls and jet beads and pearl centrepiece?" asked Petrilla. Bellanda nodded.

"Yes, that's the one."

Petrilla knew exactly where the necklace was; she had watched a juvenile thief neatly detach it while Bellanda was bending over fabric brought in by an itinerant weavercrafter.

"You were going to set up a reward for the finder of course?" she asked.

"Oh, er, yes, of course" said Bellanda

"And my fee for negotiating the transaction" said Petrilla.

Bellanda's smile was a trifle thin; but she nodded.

"Ten marks for the finder, two for me for the trouble of seeking out who might have picked it up" said Petrilla.

Bellanda's nod was a little more enthusiastic; it was less than she had feared.

Petrilla would not have paid more than ten marks to fence it in any case; and though she might have made more than two marks on breaking it up and restringing the beads it would have taken time and effort. And Bellanda was not a bad woman even if it was fun to bait her.

The little thief was delighted with her profit. She was, Petrilla judged, some fourteen turns; and it was a better and safer profession for the girl than selling her body.

Petrilla half wondered about offering the girl a place as her apprentice; but there was a cold hardness already in the girl's eyes that put her in mind of 'hard as diamonds' Jemus; and so she said nothing.

Bellanda, on the other hand, was effusive; and a little disappointed that Petrilla had paid the finder from her own store of marks, hoping to thank whoever it was personally.

Petrilla had her opinions about Bellanda; but exposing the woman to an opportunistic little thief who, as it happened, bore a superficial resemblance to B'lova was not something she was prepared to do. Shrewd Bellanda certainly was on most issues; but she had her blind spots. And Petrilla could easily see a clever and conniving little minx worming her way into Bellanda's affections as a substitute for the woman's only child.

In due consideration she wrote a brief warning about the little thief, Sofisa, to B'lova, in case the younger girl had the idea for herself. Had the child looked like a by-blow of Marlov's, Petrilla would have had fewer scruples; but the resemblance was, so far as she could ascertain, purely co-incidental as she stressed in her letter.

B'lova sent a laconic reply,

"Thanks, Lady P, will keep eye out for Mummy"

Petrilla had no doubt that the Green Rider would be more than equal to sending any scheming brat right about!

As it happened, Sofisa and no idea how nearly she resembled B'lova; she had been too young to take much notice of such things when Holder Marlov's daughter first went to the weyr some three turns ago or more. B'lova came in for flying visits, but usually sufficiently swaddled in flying gear that the Holdless thief never had a good look at her even when she was in the caverns at Riverbend. Had she known, she would never have handed over the bauble to Petrilla – and this Petrilla herself guessed, to her own peace of mind – but would have returned it herself with the sort of little girl naivety that was her speciality for getting close to many of her victims to rob them.

Knowledge is the greatest weapon in the armoury of any criminal.

When the roads cleared, Petrilla paid for passage with Finver, heading for Highspires Hold; she would ride all the way up the broad valley then walk alone over the Pass where Finver peeled off for the Weyr. Finver had no intention of crossing the river to stop at Pars; and Petrilla had no desire to visit the Hold anyway. It was still being held by a steward while Lord Bargen decided who was to Hold it permanently, and whilst instability was good for thieves in the short term it was ultimately bad for business because honest holderfolk clung close to their marks and valuables in times of trouble. She left Finver with a jaunty wave as he turned off the main, overpass road onto the steep track toiling up to the weyr, and headed on, on foot, swinging west back towards the direction of Highspire Hold. It would be two or three days solid tramping; but Petrilla had consulted her Threadfall charts updated and checked by H'llon.

It must be nice to have a dragon at your disposal and be no more than three heartbeats from anywhere. It had already taken almost five days to come up the valley, a journey that in good weather on a cart took only three days; and the extra days of toiling bumpily through glutinous mud had not been good for little Coll even with Petrilla doing what she could to cushion him by having him sat leaning on her while she diverted his mind with stories.

At least he would soon be in the Weyr; and at least too the days were getting longer.

Petrilla had become accustomed to setting up camp with her tarpaulin for shelter, knowing how to use branches to make a bed lifted above cold rocks, with a fire in front of the shelter throwing back its heat all night and discouraging such large animals as grizzlies who might look on her as a light snack after a hard winter hibernating. Early grizzlies could well be about by now; she had seen the distinctive tracks earlier in the snow, a six-legged ambling gait, moving to four legs as the creature reared up to use its front paws to pull down branches in search of new shoots. Grizzlies were omnivorous; and not averse to killing meat and fish if they were hungry.

With her crossbow and fishing lines, Petrilla ate well enough; especially when she found a cave to shelter in that was full of hibernating weesweets huddled together. It was a simple matter just to unhook the hindmost claws of some of the outermost ones and break their necks before they woke to know what was happening; Petrilla hated to be cruel to animals. Humans were a different matter; they understood the concept of the nasty, and enough humans were nasty that being unkind to them was not, in Petrilla's opinion, necessarily a bad thing.

The weesweets were small enough to roast threaded on a stick; and Petrilla stuffed them with fragrant herbs that grew wild, digging in the snow to find lancets of evergreen leaves. As was customary she pulled up the root of lurweed she found and left it to rot; runnerbeasts did not eat lurweed if they found it growing but some carters used oxen who were not always as clever. It was not the best time of turn for foraging for wild food; but Petrilla was satisfied that she did as good a job of it as anyone reared Holdless! Nevertheless she was glad she had bought some onions and oats to make a tasty broth to go with any game she caught.

In all, she was glad to come in sight of Highspire Hild.

Just because she was good at living off the land did not mean she had to enjoy it.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Highspire Hold had a large lower cavern as its entrance and other large caverns opening off that, many of which were given to almost permanent trading. Highspire stood at the confluence of several major routes; and consequently got rich from travellers stopping to rest and trade.

Petrilla had jewellery to trade; at Highspire she was almost legitimate, paying for a sleeping alcove and stall and the right to use the better visitors' necessaries and bathing room, an improvement on the communal six-dweller seat in the Holdless necessary with buckets for those who wanted to wash. Petrilla willingly paid her quarter mark a night for the privilege of a stall to herself in the segregated necessary, and hot water to bathe in. She could live with hardship; but was of preference far more fastidious.

The stall that came under her hiring fee she would use to sell the jewellery she had been manufacturing over the winter from items she had otherwise acquired. She had also bought beads from visiting fishermen, shell, coral and sea-jet and some scrimshaw bone beads, all of which they worked on long voyages for a few extra marks. Petrilla shaped some bone beads herself from anything she had caught, decorating them with pokerwork – a horribly smelly business – to supplement her other beads. Her little smelting fire had been hot enough too to melt and roll glass from broken bottles; and to melt it into bronze backgrounds as enamel; and she had a fine store of jewellery from the cheap up to expensive pieces remade from the more luxurious pieces brought to her by thieves.

A thief was lucky to get a tenth the value of the piece he stole; and a fence would rarely expect to get half what the piece was worth unless it was substantially altered. As a legitimate, albeit un-knotted, jeweller, Petrilla might expect to make about three quarters of the value of any piece sold to her, and that after deducting what she had paid the thief and any findings or clasps she had bought from a smithcrafter. It was easier – and in the long run cheaper – to pay for such things turned out in relative bulk than it was to make them herself individually.

Petrilla knew both ladies Dalia and Dara of Highspire quite well; and it was a surprise when they visited her stall arm in arm, referring to 'our husband'.

Apparently the two women had buried any differences between them and persuaded Holder Trabin to make an official espousal of Dalia. It was not after all illegal; just rather unconventional, and frowned on rather in the light of Fax's use of multiple marriage to claim his seven Holds. It seemed to be working; and that had to be better than worrying about convention!

Both women too were heavily pregnant.

Petrilla tendered her congratulations; and sought out two pairs of earrings as gifts suitable for either boys or girls for the respective offspring of the ladies, to keep until they were old enough to wear them.

The women squealed with delight.

One of Petrilla's moulds was a sitting dragon; and it was this she had picked.

"It was Lady T'lana, the Queenrider who helped Zeleika get us back together" explained Dara "This is SO appropriate, Petrilla! We must think of something nice to do for you!"

Petrilla murmured appropriate disclaimers; but was pleased.

That was the main point of gifting or doing favours for the wealthy and powerful after all!

The alliance between Dara and Dalia made for better feeling generally in the Hold; people were happier. That was good; they'd pay more for goods and be more prepared to buy frivolous things. Judging by the joint pregnancy, things had been starting to change last time Petrilla had been here, but she supposed it had taken a little while to filter down! Besides which, her previous visit had been of but short duration, and she had been preoccupied by the restoration of little Ottillie to her family.

On person who would not be pleased was Trasseela, Holder Trabin's adult daughter by a previous marriage. If either wife presented her husband with a son, Trasseela's golden dreams of snapping her fingers for any husband as consort to one of the two richest small holds in the High Reaches was gone! Petrilla thought it served her right for all the stirring she had done between Dara and Dalia.

The girl had made no effort either to learn to be a Holder in her own right to give credence to any claim to Hold in her own right; and she had loftily turned away perfectly good suitors on grounds of her rich birthright. Petrilla thought her strongly instrumental not merely in adding to but in causing trouble between the Holder's two women, and considered that as she had stirred her pot, so must she eat its contents!

Petrilla thought the two women alive to the likelihood that Trasseela might try some further dirty tricks; perhaps they had cowed her into behaving by threatening to arrange a marriage to some poor cotholder; or worse, to Allusend the homosexual Harper. Petrilla grinned. The homosexual Harper of Highspire Hold; there was almost a ballad in that!

She despised Allusend; not for his sexuality, which was his own business, but for his choice of lovers.

His long term catamite was a pouty, sneering individual, purportedly the harper's apprentice and with, in Petrilla's opinion, the musical skill of a watchwher. And that being ungenerous to whers at that. Allusend was not faithful to the youth, however; though perhaps one should not expect a Harper to be faithful whatever his sexuality. They had their reputation. She knew that one of Allusend's previous lovers sold his body when he had to and had relieved Allusend of all his jewellery and marks and a silver pipe while the Harper snored in post coital repletion.

The pipe had fetched good marks and the jewellery had not done badly either. Pity the little joyboy had not taken the lapharp too; it was carved from skybroom, the best wood for harps, and inlaid with a delicate stringing of boxwood in a filigree lacework effect, a masterpiece of inlay in the hard skybroom wood and worth a small fortune as a decorative piece even had the tone been poor. As the tone was also mellow and rich – she had heard Allusend play it many times – it would have been worth taking a trip to the Harpercraft Hall to sell it, or waiting for the betrothal of a fine lady who was known to be musical, and that a safer bet lest one of the Harpers at the Hall should recognise it!

Still, the boy had not stolen the harp – through sheer ignorance, not lack of opportunity – and there was no point spending the marks not in one's purse.

Trassela had not given up.

The woman was hooded and cloaked; but Petrilla recognised her. She made a quick decision to show nothing of that recognition; at least not right away.

"You're the female who can hire people to do things and get stuff, yes?" asked Trassella.

"I have a certain reputation, yes" said Petrilla "It leads to most people who like staying healthy to refer to me as a 'lady' not a 'female'."

Trasseela hissed in irritation and bared her teeth; but managed a forced smile.

"I do beg your pardon" she said. She did not want to give herself away; and she NEEDED Petrilla's services. "Tell my, what's the strongest abortifacient you know?"

"_Between_" said Petrilla laconically.

Trasseela made an impatient noise.

"I mean herbal! That will kill a brat right in the womb!"

Petrilla shrugged.

"I'm not a herbalist. I'd have to find out: but if you take a good decoction of yarrow and fennel it'll send you into premature labour; you're not showing so any babe's too small to survive that."

"FOOL!" hissed Trasseela forgetting she was being circumspect "Not for me! I don't want something that does no more than bring down the courses, I want to make sure those brats die!"

"I would have to look into that. Can you give me a day or two?"

"All right – but hurry! It's getting on for their time and I've had to wait for you to come! You're late!"

"I went to Riverbend first. Sometimes I do" said Petrilla mildly "The quicker you leave me to it the quicker I can get on with looking into things – My Lady" it was delicately insolent: Trasseela had treated her little better than a drudge in the way she spoke, even after Petrilla's initial rebuke. This girls was NOT going to inherit if Petrilla had anything to do with it!

The letter Petrilla composed to H'llon was careful; but asked him to meet her incognito but with knots available.

Then she went to speak to Holder Trabin, catching him as he came back from riding at a time she knew Trassella was at a music lesson with Allusend.

"Holder, would you mind if a groom saw to your runnerbeast? I need to pass important information" she said.

Trabin swung down and tossed the bridle to a waiting boy. Petrilla felt fairly certain none of the stable staff would be agents of Trasseela; the girl was not a keen rider.

"What is it, My Lady?" the Holder asked, cautiously.

"You know perhaps that I make my own way crafting and selling jewellery" Petrilla said "Rather than accept the grudging charity of relatives. Your ladies have been good enough to buy from me before. And I also collect information and broker it for a small fee as I travel."

He nodded.

"Difficult to be without decent male relatives, fardling courageous of you" he said "I'm not looking for another wife."

"I'M not looking for a husband" said Petrilla tartly "It's just that someone asked me for a poison to kill a baby late in pregnancy; and the party involved intimated a couple of babies. I put two and two together…."

Trabin went white.

"Who could do such a wicked thing?"

"Holder, the person was hooded and cloaked and spoke in a sibilant whisper. I dared not apprehend this person. My position is precarious; and I told the would-be assassin I should find out. I do, however, know people in the weyr; if a logicator Bronze Rider were to witness, would that be good enough?"

"Yes" said Holder Trabin "I will ask him to apprehend this evil man and I will pass the severest judgement upon him."

Petrilla bowed.

"I am sorry to bear unhappy and worrying news, Holder" she said "And I might be wrong."

"Find out" he said harshly "I will not permit anyone to harm my wives and children!"

H'llon's eyebrows were missing and his face showed signs if ingrained soot; and he scowled seeing Petrilla look at the slight disfigurement.

"Don't even ASK" he growled.

Petrilla shrugged.

"As you wish, Bronze Rider" she said politely "Even the best of dragons doubtless gets a case of the hiccups when chewing firestone from time to time."

H'llon was outraged.

"It was nothing to do with Melth!" he cried "It was the gas that comes off the necessaries!"

"Bronze Rider!" she could not resist teasing him "Surely you've not been setting light to your farts like a weyrling?"

H'llon looked even more outraged for a moment; then he laughed.

"Petrilla, for someone who isn't asking, you surely know how to goad information out of a man! We're trying to make the gas do something really useful" he said "It burns hot enough to cook on if you pipe it. Only you have to be a bit careful….."

"Mmm, so I see" said Petrilla "H'llon, I'm sorry to drag you out if you're busy, but I need a sworn deposition of a Bronze Rider to stop murder."

H'llon was promptly all ears; and Petrilla explained it to him.

"No man wants to think ill of his own daughter" he said "No reasonable man, anyway."

"Exactly. It's why I must be so circumspect. I thought I might introduce you to her as a poisoner; and with that dirt blown into you and no eyebrows you actually look sufficiently villainous. I was afraid I'd have to give you an eyepatch or something."

H'llon grinned.

"Well, no great loss without some small gain as my father says" he said cheerfully "My eyebrows are not lost without some good coming of it."

"Try to scowl anyway" said Petrilla "Whoever heard of a genial poisoner?"

oOoOo

"Well?" Trasseela hissed impatiently.

"This is Hal; he's very knowledgeable" said Petrilla.

Trasseela looked at H'llon. He scowled.

"I hope so!" she snapped.

"Lady, you can do business with me or not" said H'llon "I care not. But take that line with me and you might well have to fear what you eat for the rest of your life."

He might not be able to lie but he had a fine line in melodramatic acting. Petrilla bit back a giggle.

"He needs to know your exact situation" said Petrilla "Drugs are very precise; he needs to know the build of the mother or mothers, how far gone they are, that sort of thing."

"Unprofessional to kill mother as well as baby" said H'llon.

"Oh if the dose is too large and Dara and Dalia die too as well as their brats I don't care" said Trasseela "Better yet; it'll be put down to death in childbed with any luck."

Petrilla looked at H'llon; he nodded.

"I know enough" he said, and took Trasseela by the wrist. She screeched in shock.

Petrilla went for Holder Trabin, waiting in a chamber nearby, and brought him into the cavern. Other traders looked on, uncertain, at H'llon and Trasseela, the latter now efficiently bound and sat on the ground facing away from Trabin.

"As I recall, the conversation went thus" said Petrilla, repeating it word for word.

H'llon nodded.

"That is correct, Holder Trabin" he said "The would-be murderer actually named your wives."

"You can't believe him! He's a known Poisoner!" screeched Trasseela.

Trabin went white and swayed at the sound of his daughter's voice; Hllon took his elbow quickly and led him to a stool.

"Trasseela? My own daughter? I – I wish I did not believe it!" he said in a harsh whisper.

"It's a plot against me, father!" shrieked Trasseela "That Holdless bitch and her murdering bit on the side!"

"Trasseela, this is Bronze Rider H'llon" said Trabin, pulling himself together to speak more crisply, and going round to face her "A man of undoubted integrity asked in to witness because Lady Petrilla was uncertain how to proceed. Please don't make things worse by lying."

Trasseela craned round to stare at H'llon in horror; then bowed her head between her bound hands.

"My own daughter…..great shells, my own DAUGHTER!" Trabin said "And I swore to act with utmost rigor – I planned to execute anyone who would attack harmless unborn babes!"

"Sir, no-one would expect you to execute your own daughter" said H'llon.

"And I pray you not to make her Holdless" said Petrilla "There's enough misery amongst the Holdless without wishing HER onto us. She'd try to do a Lady Holdless Thella."

Trabin looked grave.

"Lady Petrilla, I believe you! What then would you suggest?"

"Marry her to a hard but fair man that wants children and doesn't care about romance" she said "Let her labour for her crime; literally. A baby every turn ought to keep her too busy to plot."

Trabin brightened.

"An excellent solution! I have let her turn down too many suitors; she shall take one of my choice and it will save face all round too!"

H'llon might have been heard to mutter something about pitying the children of such an union!

But even he could think of no better solution; and as Petrilla pointed out tartly the children would be in no worse case than many, and better than most if their father wanted them at least!

Dara and Dalia both came to hug and kiss Petrilla, thanking her for her quick thinking that had trapped Trasseela, rather than, as so many might have done, told her indignantly where to go and giving her the chance of trying again.

"And it's as well she's a bone idle piece herself" said Petrilla "She effectively spoiled her own chances; any competent Ranking woman could put together a dose to bring on convulsions and early labour enough to kill mother and child!"

"COULD they?" asked Dara.

"You'd know if you were thinking straight and not upset….a mixture of aconite and lurweed would do the job. Either on their own would probably do. The poison sac from cattlebane emptied into the rubbing oil you use on your bellies would be a spasmodic that would probably be strong enough to kill the child at least, if not the mother for the child being in the wrong position to birth, if they've not turned."

They stared at her in horror.

"Of course we know the effects of such herbs….but it would never occur to us…."

Petrilla grinned.

"Maybe that makes you nicer people than me" she said cheerfully.

"I suppose you've known more dubious people" said Dara.

"And you associate with High Reaches logicators!" said Dalia "They know such a lot about how to stop wicked people, I suppose they have to understand how wicked people think!"

"Yes I do, but that's a bit of a secret" said Petrilla hastily "I can get more done if most of the people I know don't know I logicate on the side!"

Both women nodded seriously.

"Discreet as a Harper!" said Dara.

"SOME harpers anyway!" giggled Dalia.

Dara gave birth next day to a little boy, whom she named Tradarin; and Dalia's little girl was born three days later. With Trabin's permission, his wives named her Petralia; because without Petrilla she might never have been born alive.

Petrilla was touched.

Trabin made arrangements for his daughter's espousal in quite unseemly haste; it was rumoured that the girl was pregnant!

It tickled Petrilla's sense of humour to put out the rumour that the father of Trasseela's child was Allussend. Sometimes Petrilla's sense of humour was like that.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Petrilla had not expected to see Lady Dionne of High Reaches again so soon.

She had been planning on leaving Highspire Hold to travel to Northfork Runnerhold with a view to signing on to help Holder Tragen's cavalcade go to Nabol Hold, protecting her from brigands on the journey and seeing what good Nabol Gather would bring. Tragen was, according to his custom, entering several runnerbeasts and buggies in the races and Petrilla wanted to see his young bride in action. The terrain was good to travel from Northfork to Nabol, but the going at this time of turn was soft and Tragen would often leave as much as two sevendays to travel the distance to Nabol Hold, to give him time to rest the beasts on arrival. It should take them no more than a sevenday to travel, barring accidents, around fifteen miles a day to rest his racers with a gentle gait; then three days to recover the rigors of the journey before they ran at the Gather races. Tragen now had a resident dragonrider whom he would have asked to overfly the road to see how well it had stood up to the winter. The high moor over which he must travel was soft going in spring indeed if the road had washed away. Otherwise he could afford to leave later. Not knowing how long he planned to leave, Petrilla wanted to get to Northfork in plenty of time for an early start; knowing she could make herself useful making decorative runner-plaques in bronze such as many liked to hang from the harness of, particularly, plough teams or buggy teams.

Such calculations were to be upset by the arrival of Jemus the thief with Lady Dionne and assorted children in tow, mostly tearful.

"Oh Lady Petrilla! He HAS found you!" cried Dionne, bursting into tears. Petrilla raised an eyebrow at Jemus.

"She come looking after you. I know you comes to Highspire so I offered to escort her. For a fee o' course" he said.

Petrilla looked at him narrowly.

"Give it back" she said levelly.

"What? I earned my fee!" he said virtuously.

"Not the fee. The jewellery you filched off her"

He looked injured.

"Do you think…"

"I don't think, I know" said Petrilla "You look too smug not to have done. And let me tell you it don't set you down as a great jewel thief but as an untrustworthy fool."

Jemus looked mutinous.

"I gotta make what I can, ain't I? No room for sentiment; hard as diamond, me!"

"A flawed diamond, Jemus. Give it back or I'll never buy from you again, nor will any fence. Stealing is one thing, stealing from a position of trust puts us ALL at risk. Some'd cut your throat for being so stupid" She spoke coldly, letting the economics of the situation talk; compassion for a distraught woman and her now Holdless children evidently not being worth appealing to.

He shrugged sullenly and heaved out a bag.

"See mother? I TOLD you I see him take it" said a girl of about eight.

"Yeah, well, I fort it's be safer if I took care of it fer your ma" extemporised Jemus quickly "It's all here."

"I'd check if I were you, Dionne" said Petrilla, and intercepted a filthy look from Jemus as the youth's hand moved faster than Dionne would notice to add a couple of other items to the bag.

"Oh surely such a kind young man…." Began Dionne.

"Check it. You'd not want to spoil his reputation if anything turned up missing later, would you?" suggested Petrilla cunningly.

"Oh! Quite!" said Dionne, looking through her jewels "Yes, it's all here – I left that hateful star necklace with my equally hateful husband!"

"I'll write to Bellanda and suggest it's a good time to press HER claim to it" said Petrilla equably; Bellanda would thank her for the news. "Now, let the children rest and I'll arrange klah and rolls. Thanks, Jemus; you'll want to be off on your own now; it's what you always prefer" she smiled an obvious dismissal to the young man, without taking her eyes off his too skilful hands. He scowled and slouched off.

"Were – weren't you a little ABRUPT?" asked Dionne timidly.

"You don't know him like I do" said Petrilla grimly "And to date, dear girl, your judgement hasn't been so sound that you can have the cheek to fault mine. The Utul woman was not as you thought her either."

Dionne dissolved into tears again; and, rolling her eyes in disgust, Petrilla went for klah and sweet bread rolls. The woman's husband almost had a case for beating her; Petrilla's palm itched to slap the silly creature already!

The eight-turn old girl seemed the most sensible of the lot – including her mother – since her sister, at least a turn older seemed as hysterical as Dionne herself, and the four little ones were just tearful from reaction and tiredness and from picking up on their mother's distress. They could hardly be blamed. Petrilla turned to the one who seemed to be in control of herself.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Begionne My Lady" said the child, pulling a face.

"Shells, almost as much a mouthful as my sisters" said Petrilla "Can you believe, one of them is called Ipominea and another Meliandra?"

Begionne giggled.

"They're worse even than Begionne" she said.

"So was Imbellinne; but she's glad to be I'linne now" said Petrilla . "Have you run away from your father? If so you might like to go to the Weyr. I think you might make a very nice B'onne one day."

Begionne thought about that.

"Bonny means pretty, doesn't it and B'onne's nearly that" she said. "I'd like that one day. You have to work hard to be a weyrwoman, don't you?"

"So I believe" said Petrilla "But I guess if you start young you can practice."

"Can he make us go back?" asked Begionne.

"No; you're all under twelve so you are under the jurisdiction of your mother – what she says goes" Petrilla explained. "If she chooses to take you to the Weyr that's her busines."

Begionne rolled her eyes.

"I'll have to tell her" she said "She couldn't hardly make up her mind even to run, I had to organise it all. You should SEE the bruises where he hit her!"

"The Weyr will accept her happily I'm sure" said Petrilla.

She was foiled in this attempt to help by Dionne having a fit of hysterics.

The woman wanted Petrilla to know why she had run away; and once she had untangled the disjointed sentences it appeared that Bargel had been amazed that his wife had been able to wear the necklace as he had demanded because he had looked for it, not believing her story that it was being cleaned and then beat her to make her tell him who her lover was. In the end Dionne capitulated and he beat her more for lying because he did not believe she had taken a woman as a lover. The basis for this lack of belief was, so far as Petrilla could understand the fact that he had himself slept with Dionne and sired children on her and had never found anything missing or physically wrong with her that would make her lie with a woman.

The logic of this reasoning passed Petrilla by; but she was too horrified by what Dionne said next to take issue with it. The woman sobbed and said,

"And even if he beats me to death I'm not going near any dragons!"

Petrilla almost slapped her to break into the hysterics, but counted to ten for the sake of the children.

"You silly bovine, you deserve to be beaten to death AND robbed blind by the likes of Jemus!" said Petrilla, losing her temper "But your children do NOT deserve to be brought up by that porcine! You'll have to put aside your childish fears for their sakes!"

The oldest girl promptly had hysterics and said she was scared of dragons too; and the little ones, Petrilla thought a boy and three more girls, howled because their mother was.

Petrilla bit back what she was thinking in front of the children.

"Oh dear" said Begionne.

It was, thought Petrilla, about the most constructive comment anyone could make.

After Dionne had calmed down, Petrilla asked her,

"What was it that you wanted of me that you had Jemus hunt me out?"

Dionne opened her eyes wide.

"Oh you seem so sure and certain of yourself I thought you'd advise me what to do!" she said, looking hopeful.

"You've no kin, I take it?"

"I was a spare niece to be married off; my uncle would send me back" said Dionne.

"Then you've had my best advice; go to the weyr. He can't touch you in there. If you offer to help with their orphans too you'd scarcely even need to see a dragon if you didn't want to."

"Oh I couldn't!" Dionne showed signs of incipient hysteria again.

"Well if you won't protect yourself at least let them take the kids and protect them; I've no more suggestion to make, and dragging them about Holdless isn't fair, even if you want to live Holdless yourself. I'm good and I'd be puzzled to feed six younglings; and the oldest not old enough to become a loving wench unless you don't mind her being used by perverts. And I hope you have a craft, for you're too old to fetch many marks yourself selling your body. And don't mind watching each of the kids die of starvation and the diseases that attack hungry children. And you'll be cold of course, if you live to next winter, your shoes will wear out and they'll grow out of theirs and you've not got adequate winter clothes I wager" said Petrilla with deliberate brutality.

Dionne dissolved into tears again.

This time Petrilla emptied a jug of cold klah over her.

"You silly piece, stop being so cruel and selfish and think of your children not yourself for once in your shallow little life!" she said, contempt in her voice.

"Oh but I'm devoted to my children!"

"Looks like it, doesn't it, dragging them with bleeding blisters all the way from High Reaches on a whim? If you were devoted to them you'd have had some plan and idea what to do rather than making them Holdless and exhausting the poor little bodies and nearly making them completely penniless under the dubious escort of Jemus!" said Petrilla, furious. "Had you NO idea what you intended to do?"

"Oh YES!" said Dionne "Find YOU!"

Petrilla groaned and buried her head in her hands.

Some time later, with Dionne and her eldest daughter well drugged with fellis, thanks to the aiding and abetting of Begionne, Petrilla loaded mother and children onto Melth and Adeth.

"She doesn't seem too well" said H'llon doubtfully.

"Not half so unwell had I not thought of drugging her into insensibility but had given into my baser urges of slapping her unconscious" said Petrilla grimly.

"Have you kidnapped her?" H'llon was worried.

"Tell me, H'llon, what's more important – the safety of half a dozen children who have no idea how to live Holdless, or appeasing the foolish and imaginary fears of a stupid and hysterical woman?" asked Petrilla.

"The former, obviously. Why?"

Petrilla told him succinctly about it and how this woman seemed to think that foisting herself onto Petrilla would end her troubles; and rounded on Z'kan as he started to chuckle.

"And how would YOU have dealt with the situation, Brown Rider?"

Z'kan grinned.

"I'd have passed it over to a weyrwoman, m'dear" he said "I'm far too cowardly to deal with such a situation myself!"

"Too fardling right!" agreed H'llon.

"Good. Dump it all in the lap of a weyrwoman when you get home" said Petrilla.

They exchanged looks.

"T'lana" they said with one voice.

Petrilla left in a hurry.

For one thing she wanted to be safely at Northfork before Tragen left; for another she wanted no repercussions. She had kissed Begionne before passing the child up to H'llon.

"Try not to think too ill of you mother" she said "She just hasn't got your courage. If she had she'd have cut and run when her uncle tried to marry her off same as I did in the same situation."

Begionne nodded sadly.

"I TRY to look after her."

"Let the Weyr look after her – you find time to be yourself and make friends" Petrilla had admonished.

She half contemplated asking Begionne if she would like to go with her; a sensible little girl, she reminded Petrilla of Ottillie to whom she had become quite attached.

But Begionne would have a better life at the Weyr; Petrilla had no doubt the child would Impress one day!

Besides, she would worry about her mother if not there to see the woman settled in; and it was unkind to the others to have Dionne doubtless having hysterics over where her second daughter was!

Tragen was not yet ready to leave when Petrilla arrived; the road had held and he planned to set out nine days before the Gather, a further two days before the races. This meant he would leave the day after Threadfall instead of having to arrange shelter on the way. There were plenty of Threadfall shelters along the great west road; but the beasts did not like being out of their own stables during Fall, and many shelters were quite rudimentary without shutters, only wide overhangs, repaired in a hurry after the Pass started. This did not much bother Tragen's people, but it did bother the Runnerbeasts.

Petrilla introduced herself honestly to the Runnerholder as an agent of the Weyr, having heard much about Tragen from H'llon; and was embarrassed to be warmly welcomed and introduced to Kaili, the young Lady of the Hold, who was heavily pregnant.

"I thought you were to be racing?" asked Petrilla.

Kaili grinned.

"Sure and I am! And am I not still lighter than many a man for sure, but 'tis only the buggy himself's lettin' me ride in, in case Darkstar thinks I've brought along a bag av oats in me tunic and stops t'forage fer baby!"

Petrilla laughed.

"You're a Mulgan, aren't you?" she asked.

"That I am, roight down t' me toenails. 'Cept I lost acquaintance with them long since!" she described the curve of her belly with her hands in a comical motion.

"Well, that makes us kind of cousins in a backhanded sort of way" said Petrilla "For your cousin Sabraytak is married to my half sister Sorelinna."

"Well how's about that then!" Kaili's grin broadened. "We can exploit ye all the more if ye're kin, Cousin Petrilla!"

Petrilla laughed.

Tragen's Runnerhold was a relaxed sort of place in some respects; though in other ways discipline was tighter than in many Holds!

There were few if any pickings for a thief here; the Holderfolk were too much like family to each other, high and low alike.

It was the sort of place it was probably quite idyllic to live – if one was content with the daily round!

Being kin to 'Miss Kai' as Kaili was still known led to Petrilla being given respect; but she was certainly expected to muck in as well. That she did not mind in the least.

It made a nice change playing at being regular Holderfolk; and a Hold fosterling named Vorinia attached herself to the older woman to show her about, and as pretty as the golden haired chit was, she was capable enough at doing a day's work at housework as well as having a good dry wit! Petrilla rather liked the girl; indeed, she liked most of the people belonging to Northfork! Even so, she would bid this pleasant group of people farewell gladly when they reached Nabol; by then she would doubtless be glad to get back to her uncertain, but exciting life!

The journey was uneventful.

The road crumbled a little at one point and an hour was spent easing a cartwheel back onto the stable part, but it was the most out of the way thing to happen.

Morill, one of the jockeys, who had a part share in some of the beasts, spent the time that the heavier built people were manhandling the cart telling stories of the dire things that could happen if the road was badly damaged with broken axels, people all but drowning in mud and the like, until one of the other jockeys picked up a gobbet of mud and slung it with unerring accuracy into Morill's mouth.

Morill spat mud and maledicta for a while and gave up on pessimistic stories.

Spring had come, as always, suddenly to the High Reaches, the weesweets that had been hibernating a few sevendays before out in clouds on the high moor sucking nectar from a sudden, bright profusion of flowers; fly-catchers darting to close their claws on fly-bys on the wing, and snapping up trundlebugs on the ground; then weesweets, coneys, fly-catchers and gontermorras alike heading for burrows when the shadow of a wherry stooped overhead. Wherries preferred larger prey like a good fat gontermorra; but did not despise weesweets, and often caught the little creatures on the wing.

It was a pleasant journey on the whole, warm for the most part with the occasional shower; and one miserable day of north wind, right across the length of the high moor. Petrilla wished she had the skill to paint some of the lovely scenes; even on the cold wet day the sky was a study of soft greys and scudding clouds, and the rest of the time the moor was quite lovely in it s flowery cloak, alive with small animals, flowers quickly growing back and weesweets quickly reappearing to suck on them even on a tract bared by Thread not covered by ground crews that some tunnels of infestation had begun before a second pass of dragonfire had stopped it. So many plants had their own defences; and the animals and avian knew to go to ground!

Thread was terrible; but it could never win. Nature built up again. The weakest died; and that was all very well for animals but man should be above going to ground like the animals and thrusting the weakest out. Hence dragons of course. And hence the fact that dragonriders were right to take an interest in those thrust out of the protection of Holds.

Dragons would always protect.

_A/N Yes that is the same Vorinia and yes there is a story for her that is painfully emerging from my excruciating handwriting into print. _


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

One of the things that Petrilla noted at Nabol was the Weyr craftstall. There were multiple talents in the Weyr it seemed; instruments such as drums, pipes and gitars; turned wooden goods of superior quality, including nesting sets of boxes, fine bobbins for lace making and children's tops and dolls and the like; other carven goods and toys; leatherwork, beautifully embossed, metalwork, woven and braided belts in addition to the leather ones, patchwork, embroidery, knitted lace and so on.

"Those bobbins would sell better for beads on them as weights" she told the Blue Rider Harper Journeyman.

He shrugged.

"We ran out of time and enough people with skills."

Petrilla handed over a box of glass beads from her pack.

"Try these" she said "I made them, they've never passed through dubious sources."

The Blue Rider looked again and gave her a cheery grin.

"Ah, you'll be Lady Petrilla" he said "Trust me, I don't care where things come from so long as they go to feeding our spare kids!"

"They do say that Harpers have flexible morals" laughed Petrilla.

"So long as the general good is served" he grinned "I'm T'rin and I was a Holdless orphan before the Weyr took me and my sister in many turns ago. You might say we were their first! T'lana's my foster mother."

"I hear a lot about her though I've never met her" said Petrilla.

T'rin's face softened.

"She's one of the dearest people on Pern" he said seriously "Are they a gift, these beads?"

"They are; and I'll make more" promised Petrilla "They're easy enough to make from broken bottle shards if not so exciting in colour these left over ones."

"I'll see if I can get our weyrglasscrafter to make different coloured ones too from odd ends" said T'rin "He donated us a couple of goblets, so we never quite liked to cadge any more, and they're long gone to Lord Deckter before we were even unpacked properly. But Tobari had two sisters and a brother Impressed so he's good to touch for extra" he gave her a cheeky grin.

Petrilla grinned back and sighed inwardly over how different was this youth from Jemus, with perhaps a not dissimilar background. T'rin retained that touch of the cheerful lack of scruples when it came to putting his efforts into caring for those who needed it but the very compassion he had for the orphans showed that he had never become hard. Jemus had a similar air of gamin insouciance; but it would not last.

Ah well.

Later there was a ruckus near the weyr stall; two well-dressed girls were arguing over a skinny scrap of a girl, one having released the weesweets the child had the enterprise to sell. Petrilla was about to intervene; but the other girl seemed to be comforting the child, then led her towards T'rin, facing out some old battleaxe who appeared to be in at least nominal charge of both of them. When Petrilla heard the girls say something about being weyrfolk in waiting she nodded to herself. The girls were waiting for a clutch but knew about the orphans. And there was another girl who seemed to be with them, well wrapped up in a wheeled chair like the one H'llon had made for Peder and cared for by the biggest woman Petrilla had ever seen!

These candidates to be handed over the little girl to T'rin; and Petrilla left him to it, finding a quiet corner to set herself up after having shown herself around.

It was not long before the furtive men started flitting up to her quiet perch, on a bale of hay, hidden from the sight of most behind a big cart.

Petrilla was happy to buy most things.

Jewellery tended to predominate, but she also bought a well scrimshawed bone hair comb, a set of chisels, a jade dildo and half a bolt of shimmering blue brocade with paisley patterns that probably originated in Lemos. The wine she turned down; it would not travel and she was not enough of an expert to gauge its value. She suggested that the liberator of that piece of produce might do worse than to shift it to the Harper Blue Rider. Trust a Harper to value wine, after all, she thought!

A pair of lady's dancing slippers, heavily beaded and embroidered she did not turn down, nor a pack of dragonpoker cards with lively representations of R'mart, Bedella and Lord Larad and Lady Dulsay as some of their face cards. It might be worth the trip to sell those on in Telgar.

Petrilla also operated a mark-changing service that operated particularly well at big race meetings. When pickpockets took a large denomination mark, they found spending such an embarrassment. Petrilla would break down the mark into smaller denominations, charging a sixteenth in every mark commission.

It was surprisingly profitable.

Especially the transaction with the cheeky young thief who had taken half the contents of a bookie's pouch while he calculated a series of preposterous odds proposed by the boy's equally cheeky older brother.

"You'll have to come back for the rest" Petrilla said, having changed a quarter of their haul. "I need change of my own for that much."

They looked wary.

"You ain't goin' to grass us up?" said one

"Or nick the rest?" asked the other.

"What, lose the best deal I've had all day? Bite your tongue!" Petrilla scoffed "Nor would I risk my reputation by stiffing customers for short term gain! Have sense! I've just not prepared so much, you lucky scallywags. You're that lucky you ought to be dragonmen!"

They laughed at that sally!

It was easy to get the change.

H'llon was on the weyr craftstall and Petrilla just asked to change some large denomination marks she'd laid aside for the races.

"It's a mug's game you know, betting" said H'llon solemnly.

"Oh, I'm betting on Tragen" said Petrilla cheerfully "I only bet on certainties!"

She trusted H'llon absolutely; but felt it better perhaps to protect him from the knowledge of why she wanted small denomination marks.

H'llon was happy. High denomination marks were easier to carry and tidier than a bunch of small change, so long as he kept a reasonable float.

Once again, reflected Petrilla happily, there was something in it for everyone. Except the bookie-marksman; but such were usually next door to being thieves anyway and so were fair game!

One of the competitions that took place before the racing was a trial of archery; one class for longbows, a specialised weapon used only by a few, being confined almost exclusively to Lemos in general use; and the larger class for the crossbow.

Petrilla hesitated briefly; then entered the crossbow competition.

There was some jeering and teasing from other, male, entrants, along the lines of it being a miracle if a woman could even face in the right direction; and Petrilla just smiled.

She knew she was good.

Living Holdless she relied on her crossbow to catch food, and well as it being a very tangible threat for her protection; and she laid odds on herself to finish in the last three left.

By the end of the elimination rounds, Petrilla was in the shoot off with four other men; and an hour later was shooting against one other fellow only.

He was a sturdy huntsman named Deev, recently wed, she heard someone say, to the Lady Holder of Mile High Hold; and he was the favourite.

He looked at her and grinned.

"You're good" he said.

"What, for a woman?" she asked tartly.

He shrugged.

"Said I so? I'm no fool that has to prove his manhood by fearing or putting down the abilities of a woman. Reckon my wife'd be glad to make a friend of a strong lady like you" he held out his hand "May the best archer win."

She took his hand gladly.

"I'll maybe have to meet your good lady then" she said "Though if she's not with you it will be a while; I'm travelling East for an extended period."

He nodded.

"Her be here to cheer me on" he said "Win or lose she'll be happy to congratulate you."

Petrilla's three quarrels flew well; one in the bull, one nicking the edge of the gold and one a little to the side of that, flights all touching.

Deev nodded.

"Unlucky the gust of wind that caught the last drifted it into the bronze" he said.

She shrugged.

"I could have risked aiming right in case of it; I didn't"

Deev took careful aim.

His bolts were truer; two in the gold, one half in and half in the bronze.

The crowd went wild; it was the third turn in a row he had won!

Petrilla grasped his hand cheerfully.

"It was a fair win" she said "You're the better shot!"

He grinned.

"Happen I've been shooting since I was six turns old" he said "Come meet my wife – you'll dine with us?"

Lady Orna was pleased to meet another woman who knew her own mind; dining with them too were T'rin and H'llon and a weyrling called J'leth who was the lady's young brother.

That Petrilla already knew T'rin and H'llon did her no disservice in the eyes of Lady Orna and Holder Deev, as most styled him, though he was wont to pull a comic face and disclaim, as being only the Lady Holder's spouse!

"But then, he's a fine comic actor" said T'rin; and there was laughter; some joke to which Petrilla was not privy.

That this couple were on good and friendly terms with the weyr however boded well for future encounters. It was good to know there was another Hold where she would be welcome and maybe as a guest if she needed time out from the business. Of course she could always ask to stay at the weyr; but it was nice to keep one's options open! And Lady Orna seemed a very pleasant person, open and happy and plainly devoted to her infant son, a few months old at most, whom Deev plainly adored too!

They were a nice family.

Petrilla spoke to H'llon again after the races; she donated half her winnings, having done so well from the bookie-marksmen, as she said with a straight face.

"So long as you only bet what you can afford to lose and are judicious" said H'llon "I guess there's no harm. But I've seen people gambling franticly, losing what they can't afford. Samwil the Harper of High Reaches Hold is one; he doesn't know when to stop."

Petrilla nodded.

"Inveterate gamblers can lose everything, like inveterate drunkards" she said "Coelon – you met him the time we first met – died this winter screaming. Gamblers don't die like that but they surely do ruin their lives. It goes past sanity into a kind of sickness of the mind, I think. But don't worry; it was just a flutter on a friend, and not all the marks you changed were mine. I know some people who like to be more anonymous you know!"

It was not a lie; and it could be taken several ways!

H'llon nodded.

"Good man, Tragen" he said. "Dependable to place any time."

Petrilla nodded.

"And that's how the professional gambler wins – playing the percentages" she said. "H'llon, I'm minded to go east and poke about maybe in Crom and Telgar and work down to Igen. Have you any friends in Telgar weyr? Do they do the same thing and should I make myself known? Ah, I guess not" she added, seeing H'llon's face.

"We don't talk much to Telgar Weyr" he rumbled "They're….a little intolerant. And the only thing our T'bor is intolerant of is intolerance." He pulled a face "Be very careful if you head that way; it's Lady Thella's home ground. Not only might SHE pose a risk but there's general intolerance towards all Holdless there right now – and with good cause. Many have either been chained out or taken to work the mines as forced labour. I can't approve of wholesale judgement without looking deeper" he frowned "But I see Lord Larad's point, I suppose, as Thella's men have caused so much trouble. Oh, the elderlies and legitimate traders haven't been treated like that" he added "But any able bodied men not in a trader train or travelling with a good stated purpose and preferably a warrant to back up their story's been rounded up. Larad's trying to solve the problem by opening old Holds and Mineholds and getting the Holdless to Hold, those he gets around to having interviewed and thinks are worth giving a second chance to – which is a good practical way round it in my opinion – but it's taking time. Personally I think you should avoid Telgar. I can arrange to drop you or have you dropped in Lemos though; Lord Asgenar's been reducing the problem by opening new Holds like his brother-in-law but he's less zealous about shifting the problem out of sight because he does not have the embarrassment of having Thella as a sister as Larad does. Besides, I can then make you known to D'vind and Ch'sseri from Benden; they're here for the Gather – and the gees – and to catch up with our High Reaches woodcrafters. It's a long story; they're logicators."

And that, in many ways, sufficed as an introduction!

Petrilla found herself introduced in short order to Blue Rider D'vind and Green Rider Ch'sseri and found herself liking the young couple.

"We learned logicating under Journeyman Elissa at the Woodcrafter Hall" said Ch'sseri serenely "So we're quite well aware of High Reaches policy of poking in noses, we're not REALLY allowed to by F'lar but we can help out other logicators."

"We'll help all we can" said D'vind "F'lar has to do politics you know and we can't be seen to interfere, so we have to make sure and not get caught you see. It would be embarrassing for him."

They reminded Petrilla of a pair of hunting canine puppies. She half expected them to gambol about with their tongues hanging out, yipping!

There was no time like the present; the Weyr was looking after Marilka and Esmelda, so Petrilla was pleased to accept at lift behind D'vind to Lemos.

"We'll drop in on Elissa and see if she'll put you up for the night; if not we'll go on to Benden Weyr and find room there" said Ch'sseri cheerfully "One more small one won't notice!" he grinned at her.

"Elissa'll find room for you" said D'vind "You're a friend of H'llon; and he trained her, you know. She looks on him as an elder brother." He grinned "And H'llon was trained by her husband, Master Gerney."

"Keeping it all in the family?" quipped Petrilla.

D'vind laughed.

"If you meet a big woodcrafter who's a bit literal and very good looking, chances are he's a relative of H'llon. There's lots of them: Gerney included. And I'm not being disrespectful" he added hastily "Because as logicators we're on first name terms, even if younger apprentices prefer to stick to 'Master' even out of lessons."

Petrilla nodded.

"I understood that there's a lot of informality. If everyone has their piece to say it makes sense. I'm not really properly a logicator, you know; I'm more their agent" she thought she ought to explain.

Ch'sseri shrugged.

"Close enough" he said, airily.

They left late in the afternoon and there was a brief discussion between the dragonmen over how much to Time It.

"It's only three time zones from Nabol to Lemos" said D'vind "She'll arrive in time for the evening meal; then we can Time It to Benden to make sure we get our own."

"Unless the woodcrafters invite us to stay" said Ch'sseri cheerfully.

"Don't they feed you well at Benden?" asked Petrilla.

"Oh! Yes! Manora's superb – our Headwoman – but we just get on so well with the kids at the Woodcrafter Hall, meals are such merry affairs" explained Ch'sseri.

Petrilla refrained from pointing out that too much delay would lead to missing supper; but as it happened they arrived just as a gong went, calling woodcrafters into the big eating hall.

If she suspected that the Riders had directed Bimoleth and Iphedeth _Between_ time to that precise moment Petrilla kept her thoughts to herself.

And the lovers were busy discussing whether it was worth eating with the woodcrafters and Timing It to get a second supper at Benden too.

They really were such sweet young lads!

Elissa and Gerney were happy to accommodate any friend of H'llon! They and their fosterlings made Petrilla welcome, after a good hearty evening meal, in the new cot that Gerney had built. He had made it with enough rooms to account for large numbers of fosterlings and children, though Elissa said she had no intention of starting her own family for several turns yet! Petrilla had a guest room all to herself – an almost unheard of luxury!

On the morrow she would walk on to Lemos Main Hold, but a night in a comfortable bed in the warm was certainly very welcome!

_A/N the cafuffle with two young girls will be found in Varalie's Tale, yet to be posted code HR 7&8[a]. You may recall Deev and Orla from Mile High Murder chapter 14 in HR 5 Logicators of High Reaches_


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Petrilla made her escape after breakfast from an apparently inordinate number of H'llon's relatives, promising to send their best wishes and congratulations on Z'ira's Impression.

She doubted whether she would ever remember all their names; but the general gist of each message ran sufficiently along the same lines for the sender to be unimportant.

The one she thought she WOULD remember – apart from Elissa and Gerney who just smiled and asked her to tell H'llon to try to stay out of trouble, was little Kisra, H'llon's sister, who kissed Petrilla firmly, and then a second time as payment to pass the first on to H'llon.

"I miss him of course" said Kisra "But p'haps I might go on Search and Impress and not have to give up being a woodcrafter."

"I'll tell him to get you when you're of age" said Petrilla.

"That's nice of you. Please remind him I'm already eleven; men being men and not very good at ages!"

"Oh quite" said Petrilla seriously "They can manage terribly detailed things like who laid what card when in dragonpoker, or exactly how many craft items they made in the last hour, but things like birthing days and anniversaries or even where and when they promised to meet you seem to slip away."

"Yes, they'd be quite lost without us" said Kisra solemnly.

She was a sweet child if rather solemn; and her kiss for her big brother had been spontaneous and loving!

After disentangling herself, Petrilla set off for Lemos Hold.

It was two good days' walk, maybe three; the road was new, though, and good and she made good progress, camping for the night against the bluffs of the isolated spur that extended from the Northern Barrier Range; and in the morning she saw the sparkle of the low sun on the waters if the Great Lake as the first rays came over the distant mountains. A day's hard walking had her in sight of the Hold, for Petrilla was fit and walked at a fast pace that she knew could, over distance, well outpace most runnerbeasts that needed regular resting. She would be glad to get there, for she had pushed the pace and had not been so used to walking with the winter's enforced inactivity.

Lemos Hold was a marvel to behold, rising from the plain, all built out of cut stone. No cliffs provided any start to it; it was all free standing and above ground, a massive structure of stone, the hard stone that formed the part of the rhyme 'hard wood and hard stone, two things by which Lemos is known'. Petrilla knew that the tales went that Lemos had been built to house the overflow population from Benden Hold, but privately doubted that as a mere tale, unless that overflow population deliberately chose to put distance between themselves and their parent Hold; it was two time zones off, after all! More likely that Benden had been the original seat of restless explorers wanting to see what they could find, probably during the first Interval, who felt cooped up and cramped but were more pioneers than just excess bodies!

It was a truly impressive building; a huge four wings built around a courtyard, much like the forward part of Fort Hold save that it was more building that made up the fourth side not cliff. Over the turns, successive Lords Holder had enjoyed the conceit of showing off their local product by cladding the whole in various decorative stones, predominantly white marble that gleamed pinkly in the rays of the setting sun as she approached the Hold, with geometric patterns in the hard Lemos jade and black marble too. Unless it was basalt; Petrilla was not sure. The black made patterns around the windows, whose very Thread-shutters were made of thin slabs of jade in copper-edged panels, with stone being more plentiful in Lemos than metal.

"Worth looking at, ain't it?" said the gate guard as she approached the gatehouse. "You be just in time; I'm about to close up for the night."

"That's good news" said Petrilla "I'm glad I didn't dawdle. I'm an itinerant jewellery maker; do you have a place itinerants generally stay?"

"Round the back" said the guard, his manner changing slightly, though he glanced uncertainly at Griss, uncertain of what to make of a lowly itinerant who yet had a firelizard. "Women on the left, men on the right, cots for Masters with apprentices. Necessaries and bathing rooms between but they are segregated" he added as she looked displeased.

Petrilla nodded thanks and the guard regained his respect for her as she slipped him a quarter mark piece.

"D'You make betrothal tokens, lady?" he called after her.

She turned back.

"I can do; though I'm mostly carrying finished pieces. Unless there's a forgehouse here I can use."

"Oh yes, part of the itinerant quarters has a craftshop with fires and such for visiting crafters; there's a small forge there" he told her.

"What sort of token were you looking for?" she asked.

"A ring, I think….something romantic."

"I can do you a Gold and Bronze dragon intertwined or two hearts linked knotwise or a true lover's knot. How big?"

He held up his little finger.

"Bit smaller'n that" he said "'Bout your size….reckon the dragons be out of my purse."

"With real gold, four marks, two different colours of bronze, two marks. The heart ring I can do for half a mark, the true lovers' knot a mark or double prices if I'm using gold not bronze."

He scratched his head.

"I'll have the lovers' knot and I'll pay for gold; it don't tarnish."

She nodded.

"A wise choice and a good heirloom. I'll cut you to a mark and a half for alloy if you like; and you're the winner too, because it won't wear as quickly as pure gold but it still won't tarnish."

He nodded.

"Done; I'll see you about it on my day off, day after tomorrow, if it's all right, lady."

She nodded.

"That'll be fine."

Petrilla found she had to sign in or make her mark to gain accommodation and one meal – breakfast – stating her name, profession, home Hold and reason for travel.

She looked the scrivener in the eye.

"Petrilla, Meron's daughter; jeweller; from Nabol Hold initially then a filthy little hole I prefer to forget, and my reason for travel is disliking Nabol."

The Scrivener almost dropped his quill!

"There's only room for one word in each section, miss" he said sternly.

Petrilla sighed.

"Petrilla; jeweller; Nabol; pleasure" she said "will that do?"

"People don't travel for pleasure" he said suspiciously.

"I do. I get bored in one place. The High Reaches is rocky; whichever way you go is up. I want a change. I've friends at the Woodcrafter Hall so I went to see them; and then I came to see Lemos Hold. It's worth travelling just to see. I've never seen a Hold like it; and despite all this rubbish you have to record I'm glad I came. You can't fit that in your space either I suppose; that's why I thought 'pleasure' was a succinct way of putting it."

"Why didn't you say you had friends in the Woodcrafter Hall in the first place?" he grumbled.

"There isn't room for it on your form" said Petrilla facetiously "Besides, you never asked, so how am I supposed to know it's relevant? Why is it relevant?"

The scrivener grunted, ignored her question and inscribed 'PLEASURE' in the reason to travel column and poked the sheet at her to sign in the last column.

Petrilla took a perverse pleasure in filling the depth of three entries with a flamboyant –and educated – signature.

It was a small victory over the small minded to harry them with facetiae and awkwardness.

And as it has been mentioned, Petrilla was sometimes like that.

The only other female itinerant was a woodcrafter, travelling downriver to peddle her wares in places where wood was less available. She wore no knots; and Petrilla suspected that she had been dismissed the Woodcrafter Hall for failing to make the grade; a suspicion quickly confirmed when she saw the poor quality of the woman's work.

It is true that Petrilla had got used to the high quality of work turned out by H'llon and his apprentices; but even so the work was clumsy and badly finished. Petrilla knew her jewellery crafting was not as good as a proper journeyman smithcrafter's work; but Grissom had been a journeyman smithcrafter before he had discovered how much more profitable and fun it had been to be a fence; and she had almost received a proper apprenticeship in certain smithcrafting skills. Cutting gems, a minercraft skill, she was less skilful at, though Grissom had acquired some skill from a miner on the run with some very nice stones, and had passed on all he knew to her. Voll's skill cutting several pieces for her over the winter had been very useful; losing a small amount of stone to give it a different cut increased the value she could get for it if the stone was at all distinctive! Thus Petrilla despised the clumsy woodcrafter, dismissing her as no more than an amateur who would never make the grade.

There was a communal room as well as the two dormitories; and it was here that breakfast would be brought, and where any might eat food purchased from the Hold food stalls. The fireplace and plentiful fuel also permitted cooking in here as well as being good and warm; the spring evening was still chilly.

The men in there were mostly travelling traders, marksmen or artisans, insufficiently skilled to warrant a place under the aegis of their various crafts in the Hold building; there were also several loggers. Loggers were semi-skilled artisans, loosely attached to the Woodcrafter Hall, but never having served a true apprenticeship and being something of a law unto themselves, were generally treated with considerable circumspection by crafters and Holderfolk alike.

"What do you charge?" one logger approached Petrilla and asked bluntly.

"That depends on what you want to buy" said Petrilla coolly.

"Oh, nothin' fancy, just straight sex for the night" he said.

"Then you are out of luck, my friend, for it's not a commodity I sell" said Petrilla.

"Lah-di-dah, ain't yah? If you ain't a loving wench, what are yuh?"

"A jeweller" said Petrilla, summoning little Griss as backup: loggers were said to be uncertain of temper. "And a getting irritated jeweller at that." Griss hissed emphasis.

The logger backed off.

"Sorry, lady, I'm sure" he said "Thought someone o' status'd be in the Hold proper."

Petrilla shrugged.

"Could be I just got tired of restraints and cut loose" she said casually "I make decent jewellery and I buy as well as sell."

It was as close a declaration of her main trade as she felt safe to do off her usual routes of travel.

Anyone with light fingers would pick it up; the honest probably would not.

By the time she went to bed, Petrilla had been offered and had bought a jade bangle, several jade rings, a selection of semi-precious beads and a tiny but exquisite box inlaid with a lighter wood in a fellis-flower pattern, lined with stone and containing cloves.

Breakfast consisted of oat porridge and the choice of salt, sugar or maple syrup to flavour it. There was as much bread as anyone could eat, and Petrilla copied the loggers who spread maple syrup on their bread.

"You get many loving wenches staying here that you mistake me?" she asked the logger who had propositioned her.

He shrugged.

"Some. Most live in the Hold; Asgenar likes to keep them where he can control 'em, keeps lists on everything, even loving wenches; issues 'em with licences and makes 'em check regular with the healers. I know 'em all; but variety's the spice of life, so, well….." he shrugged again.

"Oh no offence taken" said Petrilla "I accept that a man needs relief. I just like to do the running; I'm ornery that way."

He laughed.

"Reckon you ought to try for a weyrwoman then maybe" he said "They say THEY're feisty pieces! Where are you off to next?"

"Oh I thought I'd make my way down to Igen…..see Pern a bit. I'm sick of snowy mountains."

"You want to cross the river well north then; much further downstream you'd have to hire a ferry. Head straight for the river and use the Hold bridge; there's another downstream but the new one is a good solid structure and" he gave her a shrewd look "People who don't like having details taken live well enough under its arches and inside."

She smiled.

"Why, thanks, friend – I didn't catch the name."

"Chayney, Lady. I don't step outside the law meself, but I'm no lover of authority, no nor of them that have more nor they deserve. Young Asgenar mean well, to my way o' thinkin' but his lists! You won't be able to move soon without being on a list o' some sort with this fardling paper comin' outa his ears almost!"

Petrilla laughed.

"So you've a soft spot for those that stay off lists?"

"Too fardling right! Most of us loggers so. See, we see 'em when we're riding our log rafts down river…. I'm waiting for a load to go in a few days after Threadfall, it's up the lake ready to join what I already brung down. If you want to sleep under the arches couple o' nights and then step on a raft to travel downriver, I'd take one o' them plain jade rings in payment t'take you all the way to Igen; and you bring your food separate."

Petrilla considered. It would save a lot of walking.

"Very well" she said "That's a deal. I've got to see a man tomorrow with a commission; but a night under the arches should give me time to make contacts."

She spent the day making use of one of the forge facilities, and also negotiated the purchase of some mixed glazed pottery beads from a potter of dubious origins and worse habits of cleanliness. The beads were quite serviceable though and would be gay between glass and bone ones.

With the ring sold to the guard and a few other items traded – the guard also bought the fancy slippers she had bought in Nabol – Petrilla set off.

"It's Threadfall early tomorrow, Lady" warned the guard on duty at the gate.

"Thanks, I'm aware; I've a place to go" she said.

He shrugged.

"Can't say I haven't warned you, Lady" he said fatalistically.

Lemos bridge was a good march west and south of the Hold, the better part of a day's journey; and was on the lowest convenient point of bridging below the several channels that ran out of the Great Lake. It was as Chayney had described a good sturdy structure, with heavy piers, shaped to help the river flow fast without eating at the stone. The water was high at this time of turn, and the Great Lake almost seemed to extend this far south with the various channels overflowing with spring melt water. Four of the six piers were in the water, and the river lapping at the two end ones that stood on the bank.

Petrilla slid under the end of the bridge by the first pier, wondering where the Holdless might live with any ease.

A couple of groups were camped under the first arch, with withy windbreaks around their sleeping quarters, on the raised stone pier that extended from the river bank. One family looked to be a family of tinkers; the other a small grimy family of urchins – at least she assumed they were a family – of whom one at a time entered the fast-flowing water attached to a rope to dive for anything dropped from above. One surfaced brandishing a broken knife as she watched.

"Accommodation here seems a little cramped" said Petrilla.

One of the urchins jerked a thumb upwards.

It was probably typical of Lemos that the ladder up should be made of wood.

"In the body of the bridge itself?" she was surprised.

"Yeah, it's hollow" said the oldest urchin, a boy of perhaps fourteen turns. "All arches; the smith's talking wire is to go through it when they get it this far, they say."

"Fascinating" murmured Petrilla.

"Handy" said the boy laconically "Guess we'll have to move out while they put it in; and make sure and not hurt it. I s'pose it won't take much room; it's high t'let smiths get down there and see to tending it or something."

"And to check for breaks, I suppose, if the signal doesn't get through" said Petrilla.

"You smith trained then?"

"I never made journeyman" shrugged Petrilla "Too many other things to do. I'm a jeweller."

The boy brightened.

"You buy stuff?" he asked.

"I'd buy your stuff boy" said the tinker.

"Yeah, for cobnuts and promises" said the urchin "You stay outa this, Nelus!"

Their collection of goods was eclectic; from a single earring to a pair of shoes. The jewellery was mostly bucolic Gather finery, usually broken, their other goods mostly metal tools dropped whilst crossing the bridge, and the occasional piece of runner harness broken and dropped, one with a decorative bronze such as Petrilla herself sometimes made. It was a good one and would give a decent mould in good quality clay.

"I can't do more than three marks on the lot" said Petrilla "There's a lot of work to do to mend a lot of it; I'll need to melt and re-cast a lot of the bronze, it's only scrap value. That's my best offer."

The boy produced a necklace of carnelians.

"Make it five with this and we have a deal" he said.

The beads between the stones were silver; tarnished but that could be solved. They were fine workmanship and worth more than the stones themselves.

"Done then" said Petrilla. "And if any of you is looking to better yourself I'm thinking of taking an apprentice or two. Think about it." And with that she climbed up the ladder.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Under the bridge was dark despite the glows, not contained in baskets but growing wild on the arches that held the road up. A tall man would have to stoop; H'llon would be most uncomfortable in here. But his family were of exceptional stature; and many from southern Lemos at least were slight of build.

The archways seemed to coincide with the abutments, making six rough alcoves on each side; each of which appeared to be occupied by one or more people.

"There's a fee to sit out Threadfall" said disreputable looking fellow with one leg and a scarred face.

"Does he tell truth?" Petrilla called down the hollow bridge.

"Aye, it's his business to let you in or not" said a colourfully-skirted woman with several offspring. They bore the stamp of better off tinkers than the ones camped below.

"What's the fee?"

"Half a mark" he leered "Or a kiss."

"Well that's put paid to any notions I had about you making an honest living; for it's daylight robbery!" said Petrilla cheerfully, reaching into her pouch.

"It's that or squat on the abutment with filthy kids and thieving tinkers that we don't let up here" said the crippled man. "Your choice."

"Wonderful choice" said Petrilla paying up.

"You can bed down along o' us if you wants, dearie" said the tinker woman "Help me mind the kids while my man's out chasing seasonal work."

"I'm no hand with little ones" said Petrilla, picking her way carefully along the floor, careful not to slip on its curving surface that was the tops of the arches of the bridge below, protruding into the hollow span. "I'm Petrilla; I buy and sell jewellery."

"Eseema; I make jewellery too. Though I wager our work's different enough not to be in competition. I weave beads; it's an old family skill."

"I work metal and set stones" said Petrilla "Though I don't despise beads and bangles. What do you mean, weave beads?"

The woman showed her a tiny loom and the minute coloured glass beads that she was weaving into a pattern of flowers.

"I like that" said Petrilla "I'd fancy buying from you to sell elsewhere; I can afford to lay up some for when I return to High Reaches."

"Ar, thought your accent was odd" nodded Eseema. "You look real quality, lady, do you read?"

"Yes of course!" said Petrilla without thinking.

"Ain't no 'of course'" said Eseema "If you start learning my bigger ones their letters we'll haggle over what I'll let you have in return."

"I'm happy to pay too; it'll be a way to pass the time and no hardship to me" said Petrilla hastily. She had forgotten that many tinkers never acquired the skill of literacy; they were less common in the High Reaches than other traders who took a pride in acquiring education wherever there was a Harper. The only tinkers she knew well were Poley and his kin; and even Chola was essentially literate even if reading did not come fluently to him. Perhaps it was the nature of the High Reaches; with Harpers banned under Fax the chance to attain what had been forbidden could have overridden general apathy.

"Here, lady, can you read this yere dokkiment?" called another man "I took it from a pouch and I can't make head nor tail of it."

Petrilla looked at it.

"It's the description of a man wanted by a minehold for systematic stealing and violent behaviour" she said.

"Oh, that's OLD news!" said the pickpocket disgustedly "What do I owe you?"

"Oh I'll read for people for free; I only charge for writing" said Petrilla extemporising hastily. It seemed unfair to charge for an unimportant document; especially when the pickpocket was honest enough – if one might so describe a thief – to offer payment for something that turned out to be useless to him.

"Whaddya charge for a dokkiment what's a warrant of trustworthiness?"

She looked him up and down.

"Your looks are against you…I'm not sure it'd be believed."

"Oh I spruce up all right…need to, to get close to the Gather crowds. I'd a mind to work as a hand in the Hold itself; more opportunity. But you gotta have dokkiments."

Petrilla grinned. There was something rather delicious about the concept of hoisting Lord Asgenar by his own petard of trusting documents.

"Five marks" she said.

"Five marks? Now THAT's daylight robbery!"

"You want it believable, to use over and over? It'll net you more than that in one day if I do a proper job!"

He scratched his armpit loudly, thinking.

"All right" he said "You'll ha' ter tell me what it say and help me learn it."

Petrilla nodded.

"Scratch me down some of those glows and hold closer" she said.

"Huh, I know what you are" grumbled the pickpocket "You're some bugger's headwoman caught thieving - with your firelizard and your do this my man, do that my man, scratch my arse for me fellow!"

Petrilla smiled.

"The last is not necessary, thank you" she said blandly "I'll make out a warrant from a small Hold's steward…..harder to check up on. I'll say you have proved yourself capable and trustworthy helping to set up Gatherstalls; there'll be rich pickings there. You're getting old; you should take on an apprentice."

"Why do you think I want easier pickings?" he scoffed.

Petrilla had plenty of paper; which served to confirm the pickpocket's view of her origin. She used one of her stone moulds to rub the paper into, embossing it, a shield shape onto which, in metal, she was wont either to enamel appropriate colours for a Hold, or add gems.

"What's that?" the pickpocket asked.

"It's an embossed mark; it looks impressive. I'll mark back the other way using the lozenges carved in this jade ring to look like arms stamped in with a die. We'll call it…Everhill Reach Hold. Be vague; it's to the north, imply Telgar or Crom. Crom is better, too much connection between Telgar and Lemos. Then I'll start with 'to whom it may concern' because that's fairly standard; what name shall I use for you?"

"Brend. It's my own and I shan't forget it. And it's not so memorable I'd get some idiot having heard of me."

She nodded and went on as she wrote,

"'Brend has been found reliable and capable in helping to set up and take down Gather stalls; he is sober and clean of habit. Average height, dark hair, brown eyes, scar on right wrist' – a description is usually given" she added as his hand went to the scar.

"Over zealous canine" he said.

"Claim the hound of a spoilt Hold fosterling over excited after hunting" shrugged Petrilla.

"My! You're the clever one!" said Brend. "I take it back what I said about robbery, you're earning your five marks. Who's signing it?"

"Pelgin, steward for Holder Pelagar – implying a half-blood relationship. Learn the names thoroughly" she said "Keeping them alike will make that easier, it's why I did it. How much you extemporise about their personalities and relationship is up to you."

"What I make up you mean?"

"Yes."

He paid up without a further murmur.

Petrilla used further stores of her paper to write out the alphabet for Eseema's children, drawing a small picture by each letter to help them remember its sound.

It was quite fun; they were eager enough, though she did not think she would relish being a Harper to do little else al day! The oldest two were twins, a boy and a girl called Simen and Simenna; and they were around nine turns old. Their younger sister Sera listened too; and Petrilla let her join in.

"Ain't she too young to learn?" asked Eseema "I don't want to addle her head, her's only six."

Petrilla shrugged.

"From what my mother told me I was reading at four, before I even got to the Harper; and four is the age they start teaching in many places in the High Reaches. So many cotholds; the kids need their schooling young because they're wanted on the land by the time they're eleven or twelve turns old."

"Well if that's in order, I'm happy. Just checking" said Eseema hastily.

Sera learned faster than the older ones.

"I'll see if I can find a renegade Harper who'd be glad of a place to stay and a mark or two teaching children and adults alike here" said Petrilla "I've good contacts. Seems this'd be a good place for such; for Brend's not the only one hanging over my back to learn with the youngsters."

"It's a fardling sight harder to get any rights like access to a Harper since that blasted Thella woman made things so tough for the rest of us Holdless" said another young man. He wore an eyepatch and was missing fingers from a heavily scarred right arm. "I learned my letters a long time ago afore I were chucked out o' craft with me da account o' him setting up a water wheel wrong and me dragged into it while I held stuff for him…I were six and I'd just begun to learn my letters, Eseema."

"Excuse me? YOU were made Holdless for his crime? That's hardly fair!" said Petrilla.

He shrugged.

"Kids belong to their mother….she wanted to go with da whatever" he said "She died first; I were twelve afore he follered her."

"Life ain't fair" called the one legged man.

"True, friend" said Petrilla "But sometimes it seems unfairer than others."

Her opinion on the selfish, stupid woman who would drag her crippled son into Holdlessness to follow the man who's rank stupidity and carelessness had led to the child being crippled in the first place was even lower than that of silly, thoughtless, selfish Dionne!

Between lessons, Petrilla also traded; most of the Holdless here lived or supplemented their living by stealing, out of necessity. The tinker family were an exception to that, trading what they made, and Eseema's husband and his brother working as itinerants for extra marks to lay aside, mending pots, shoes and anything else they could at the Holds where they worked as well. The whole family travelled during the summer, and Eseema returned with her children in autumn, joined by the men over the winter, during which time, like Petrilla, they made things. Of the other dwellers under the bridge, the one-eyed, crippled youth, whose name was Veekram, hired out as a bodyguard, his left arm strong enough to wield a club; and he had too a crossbow that strapped ingeniously to his weaker arm, the trigger attached to his two remaining fingers by a thong he could jerk.

"I need a bodyguard" said Petrilla "Do you prefer a daily rate or a proportion of my takings?"

He shrugged. It was an extravagant motion he was good at.

"Feed me, clothe me, give me some spending marks for Gathers and I'll go with you, lady. You're smithcraft trained; like I should of been. You can learn me what I can manage to do for my wages."

Petrilla nodded.

"I might have a line to another one of these" she scratched Griss's poll "That you could train to be extra fingers for you. At least it's a finger and thumb; I wager you're handier than you pretend."

He grinned.

"I'd have no trouble at all to speak of if the fardling wheel hadn't stripped half the muscle of my forearm" he said "I can brace with my upper arm to fire the crossbow, but lifting and delicate movements are a problem; it's weakness as much as clumsiness."

Petrilla wondered if the logicators and H'llon could come up with some ingenious form of assistance; but said nothing.

The bumping sound echoing hollowly and the voices not long before Threadfall was due caused Petrilla to start.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Oh it's only the water people" said Eseema comfortably. "They travel on the water same as most traders travel with carts and mule trains. The bridge is wide enough to moor their boats under during Fall, but they have to tether them front and back, for the current's cruel fierce. It's risky even so; but better than being caught out in Fall."

"They cover the prows and sterns with skybroom resin" volunteered Brend frowning at Eseema's use of 'front' and 'back' "in case Thread is blown or they drift out at all. Law unto 'emsleves, they river gypsies."

"Apparently!" said Petrilla, intrigued.

It was an aspect of the Holdless she had not previously encountered; rivers in the High Reaches were not so benign as this one, even when this one was in spate; for the rivers in the High Reaches were filled with white water and frequent waterfalls, though Petrilla supposed this lifestyle might be practical towards te rivers of the eastern plain of Nabol, east of her usual travelling circuit, for her careful avoidance of Nabol in the general way. Her visit to the Hold's spring Gather was the first time she had been back for turns; since a visit of curiosity the turn after her father had died in fact!

There was a flurry at the other end of the bridge and a man in a gay patchwork jacket came up with his bag of trade goods, dice and cards. He glared at the reading lesson.

"Phaugh, Harper stuff" he said, disgusted.

"You'd not like your children to have the chance to read then?" asked Petrilla mildly.

"What for? What have the Harpers done for us?"

Petrilla smiled sweetly, containing her anger at such profligate ignorance.

"Oh, kept alive the knowledge that Thread would return….you protect your boats with skybroom resin, and knowledge of that is the old rhyme 'protect the wood with skybroom gum / for when the silvery Threads do come'"

He stared an took a threatening step towards her.

"How do you know that? It's a secret family rhyme!" he cried.

"Secret? You fool it's part of the teaching ballads every child must learn to know how to protect themselves! I was chanting that as soon as I could prattle intelligibly, halfway across the planet from you! And then there's 'When Thread falls, one place alone /Can be your saviour, under stone'. Where I come from, the High Reaches, Fax killed all the Harpers and a lot of people never heard the rhymes; and died for not knowing them. Your family kept faith and kept the tradition, which makes YOUR kin almost honorary Harpers! Not all did keep faith. We probably will never find out how many hundreds, maybe thousands of people died because they had no Harper rhymes to instruct them. But that's what the Harpers did for you; impressed your ancestors enough to save your whole family's ungrateful lives!"

Her eyes were flashing.

He had calmed down and was staring at her in deep thought.

"If that's so, let it not be said that the river gypsies betray a debt" he said gruffly "I shall have to talk to the people about this. But Harpers poke their noses in!" he added, aggrieved.

"So does a good thief" said Petrilla "They store knowledge; of course they ask stupid questions too."

"Are you a Harper?" he asked suspiciously.

"Jays, no; I'm a jeweller and fence. But I read and write fluently and I respect those who Harp! I was running a class here to pass the time during Threadfall; and I suggested to these good people finding a renegade Harper to teach here, or one who's stuck his nose into the business of someone more dangerous than usual and wants to lie low….one with too much of a tan for example!"

He laughed.

"Hah, yes I see what you mean! Well, so long as they ain't interferin in how we live…."

"Heh, if I know Harpers they might want to travel with you a whiles just to find out how you live, so they can record it – and use it for ideas for new songs!" she said "Terms you use and skills not known anywhere else would fascinate them for example – if the oldest and most skilled one of you suffered an accident, having your skills and secrets passed down from time immemorial written down might stop them being lost forever in a bad accident."

"Well there's that in what you say" he admitted grudgingly "Nearly happened once, when Thread DID start up again….we lost a few for it coming unexpected."

"And that's another point; it wasn't unexpected. Those who knew their lore knew to the day when it was due. The teaching Ballad tells us the precise sign to look for" she said "The one about 'red star passes'….oh fardles" as Griss squawked and fell off her arm.

"Teach me it" he said; and she nodded. "Sera, take Griss down the end and stroke him while I teach the grown ups; the twins must teach you later" she said.

Sera was so delighted to get the chance to fuss Griss she did not even make a fuss about being left out!

Petrilla went through the ballad in its entirety. She was no Harper; but she had been taught to recite and sing well enough by her Hold harper in her youth; and few even bothered to hide a shudder as she opened,

"Seas boil and mountains move,

sands heat, dragons prove

Red star passes

Stones pile and fires burn

Green withers, arm Pern

Star stone watch, scan sky

Ready all Weyrs, all Riders fly;

Red star passes."

She taught each verse painstakingly telling how to read the Star Stones until they all knew it. And she knew it would pass down the generations with the river gypsies if with no-one else! Their leader picked it up quickly, being used to an oral tradition, the reason to keep an oral tradition alive as well as trying to keep literacy common, for the illiterate often learn by rote with remarkable facility, thought Petrilla.

"Don't you send us no sissy for a Harper" her new convert warned. "He'll need to be tough to live this sort of life!"

"As are we all who live it" said Petrilla "Any renegade Harper's got to be tough I guess to survive. It may take a little time to find one; but I'm bound for Igen. All news passes through Igen."

"We could take you, if you wanted" said the Riverman, who introduced himself as Tyrell.

"I thank you for the offer, but I already negotiated for and paid passage with the loggers."

"Them!" he said in utter contempt. "Well it's a bumpy ride you'll have lass, not a smooth trip like with us; but at least they'll not stiff you at all" he added grudgingly.

"That's why I accepted the lift" she said "I trusted the one who offered it; I didn't know about you then."

"Huh, well, time goes on. I got goods to trade."

It was all business.

A small boy came up, also in a patchwork jacket.

"Da, leading edge is long gone, Granpa wants to get going afore loggers come down"

Tyrell nodded.

"I'll clinch a deal on that then" he said, as he dickered over metal scraps with Petrilla "You win, this time."

"It's a fair price"

He shrugged.

"Fair in High Reaches maybe….metal's valuable here"

"Another half mark then I will add and consider myself richer to know of your existence; and if I need passage again I shall think on you" she said.

"Done" Tyrell grinned.


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: Of the critters mentioned in here, fly-bys are canon and may be found in Dragonlover's Guide to Pern; Striders are one of my critters and may be found in HR Additional Fauna and Flora of Pern_

**Chapter 13**

Petrilla took herself down to the pier to watch the riverfolk go; she could see what Eseema meant about danger. The river flowed fast, the pointed ends of the piers piercing it smoothly so it flowed with barely aswirl; but the boats moored between the piers there was a good hand's length difference in the height of water upstream to down and the little boats jerked and rocked alarmingly, straining at their moorings. It was an act of faith just to board them; but board them the river people did without apparent qualm, even quite little children judging the best time to leap for the bucking craft.

Getting the little boats away safely was a supreme act of skill; and Petrilla admired the combined efforts of a polesman fending off and the tillerman holding tight to the tiller as each left in turn. It was a pretty sight, the brightly coloured boats emerging from the bridge's protection one after another, from the far end first and then one every two or three heartbeats like a flock of graceful avians taking off.

The language of the poleman in the centremost boat was less than graceful; but he had the most force of the river to battle against.

"Clever job, ain't it?" said the oldest urchin, also watching.

"Impressive" agreed Petrilla "You lot decided if you're wishful to come with me?"

The boy shrugged, trying to look offhand.

"If I go, the others starve. If Syeira go, well she's our best swimmer and it make life harder. Reckon the two youngest be too young to train up; and reckon I don't know you well enough to lat my little brother and sister go with you anyhows, even if I do wonder if they'll get better fed."

Petrilla nodded.

"I can understand that. What's your name?"

"Piaz. The little ones are Tawn and Dessi. They're turned seven and eight and they're good kids but they couldn't go on without the both of us."

Petrilla nodded again, seeing the war of desire for higher marks in potential income over leaving the youngsters before those marks started coming in regularly.

"I'm not sure I'd have the custom to take four of you on right now" she said dubiously "I appreciate you don't want to be split up. I lost contact with my sisters for turns and I regret being brought up separated from them."

He looked relieved that she was not taking offence.

"Where are you off to?" he asked.

"Igen Holdless Caverns….and I'll stay there a while. Maybe if there is enough work down there to need extra hands I could send word to you for two and two half apprentices?"

He thought about that, grinning at her description.

"All right. We don't have to come I guess if we change our minds. How'd you get word? The river people?"

She scratched Griss's pol.

"I'd send this little fellow"

The children were all staring at him, big eyed in awe.

"Please, lady, can we stroke him?" asked the second one, the girl Syeira.

"Certainly….he likes to be petted. But slowly and gently mind, he gets easily startled, especially around Threadfall time."

The children petted Griss who was soon crooning and humming with pleasure, his little soft body vibrating with the intensity of the hums of happiness!

"He's awful soft" said Piaz "I thought he'd feel a bit like tunnel snakes, but he don't."

"They are wonderful little creatures, aren't they?" said Petrilla "And very useful. Ah, Veekram…any idea how long we wait for the log rafts? I'd not like to keep our lift waiting" as Veekram came down the ladder.

"Hour or two" he said "They tether 'em and sink 'em up in Big Lake through Threadfall, protected under water. Then they pull up the ballast and poof! They come up to the top. We must go downstream; they shoot the bridge at speed to stop theirselves getting stuck and broke up."

Petrilla nodded; plainly he was a seasoned traveller used to the rafts.

"Is it a bumpier ride than with the rivermen?" she asked.

He made a rude noise.

"Not hardly. You're closer to the water if that sort of thing worries you; but they're less tippy in my opinion."

"I've seen people shoot white water rapids in kayaks" said Petrilla "And wondered if I might enjoy it; I shouldn't think I'll be worried."

There were dedicated kayakers who responded to drum messages to carry goods, and sometimes marksmen, carrying their kayaks on their backs up gradients and riding whatever was offered down. It was something on which people would lay odds if their route covered a particularly dangerous stretch of rapids or falls, whether they would make it or not. Petrilla disapproved of betting on human life and always hoped they would make it. The Weyr had been known to rescue capsized kayaking message-runners before: and she had heard that one weyrwoman had laid out a Holder for being pleased because the Weyr had, as a courtesy, completed the delivery which had therefore been faster than the Kayaker would have done. The Holder had been stupid enough to say he hoped message kayakers would get capsized more often.

Petrilla was firmly with the weyrwoman on that issue!

oOoOo

Chayney grinned at Petrilla in insouciant fashion as though he had not just ridden his flimsy looking craft between two arches at a speed that had it briefly leave the water and scutter on the top like a stone skipped across a lake.

"Someone told you where to wait then" he said "You've a companiion?" he nodded to Veekram.

"My bodyguard; you'll want extra for him of course" she nodded.

Chayney frowned.

"Not hired as protection against me I hope? I don't touch unwilling women."

"Not against you. YOU might not, but at Igen Holdless Caverns I dare say there are others not so scrupulous" said Petrilla. "Besides, some of my clients can be rough; they think it's easy to stiff women."

Chayney looked mollified.

"I see…I'm sorry" he said stiffly "I thought you doubted my honour."

"Not in the least" said Petrilla "No apology necessary; a misunderstanding. Want to see if I can bring down that strider for supper?" she changed the subject, indicating the big, clumsy, long-legged avian whose strategy for dealing with Thread was to sink right down in the water, its nostrils set on a bony plate on top of its head, coated with silicon extruded from the bone made from the sand it shovelled into its bill with the small fish and crustacea snatched from the bottom that formed its staple diet.

"No hard task to shoot a strider flying" laughed Chayney "Even from a raft!"

"Through the eye to save the best meat?"

"I'll have a mark on you doing that!"

Petrilla was pleased to win, with the awkwardness forgotten; and negotiated passage for Veekram in lieu of her winnings.

"They're a bit fishy tasting, but well enough if cooked slow" she said

"Ar, well, some of us can't afford to be too fussy about the flavour" said Chayney "One o' the boys does 'em in a shellfish sauce; that's real tasty"

"I hope to try that" said Petrilla "Perhaps he'll show me how?"

Chayney nodded.

"When we land we'll hunt shellfish. We'll be taking the trip slow, several days to keep rafts from breaking up; time to exchange recipes!" he grinned "And it'll save you some shoe leather if not many days' travel."

"And glad I am of it" she said.

And glad of it she truly was! The rafts still went faster than a runner beast, and it would save her a great deal of time and effort, as well as allowing her to see life from yet a different perspective!

The rafts went through the second, older bridge that had a small Hold associated with it on the meeting of the ways; and the Hold children ran out to watch.

The loggers waved back to the shouting, waving children; their passage was an exciting event! Trees felled through the winter could be taken down river in large quantities on the spring flood, and there were so many rafts that it took about an hour for all of the rafts to pass any one point. Wherever they passed settlements children, and often adults too, ran out to stare, an event of some spectacle a welcome diversion in their often humdrum existence!

As they travelled south it became gradually hotter, not just as a result of the latitude but from the hot dry winds that blew down from the high plains of Keroon in the east. Petrilla could see the start of Keroon on her left, bluffs rising up with trees in the valleys and a skyline of blue shimmering that was the vast plains of grass. The scenery to the right changed too; the hazy mountains in the distance started to become rounder in contour, the high cone of Igen Weyr a landmark and an intrusion, and looking deceptively close in the dry air. Dragons wheeled lazily in the thermals, winking in and out of _Between_ on verious errands, looking no larger than fly-bys from this distance. Fields beside the river were flooded by dug out channels and men, women and children worked to the knees in water planting river grains, glancing up to wave quickly, but not having time to take more than a quick look from time to time.

The river began to widen, and the tang of salt occasionally assailed Petrilla's nostrils; the mountains on her right swung towards the river, orange and yellow and brown strata like a sweater knit from mixed wool, richly coloured in the strong sun, the flattish topped prominences tortured into strange shapes by the land, where rainfall and wind and baking heat all came in their turn and in extremes. There were pillars like sea stacks, and in some formations one might almost imagine faces; and it was easy to see in the imagination giant statues standing on the grittier slopes that sprang from the flat plain like a conical pedestal.

"We'll bring the logs in to the Port Hold three days carting north of Igen Hold" Chayney explained "The river's tidal and there's a swamp each side of it. We'll be putting some ashore there and the rest we'll pole down against the flow of the tide to load at the back of the High Spring Tide that's due tomorrow."

"Your timing has to be perfect" marvelled Petrilla.

Chayney shrugged.

"I be good at what I do; it's why I'm ganger for the log rafts. Will you travel by cart the last bit, or will you fight the flow with me?"

"Oh I'll fight the flow" said Petrilla "It seems a pity to have come so far and not see it through."

Chayney laughed.

"I like your spirit" he said.

"Veekram, what about you?" asked Petrilla.

Her bodyguard had not enjoyed the journey as well as she, though he had endured it stoically.

He shrugged.

"My job is to guard you, Lady; my own preferences are not at issue."

"Veekram, it will be time before Chayney gets the logs on to the bank, and has them sorted out of the water to his satisfaction. If you'd rather land at the Port Hold I'll not blame you but put my trust in him until you catch up with me."

Veekram hesitated; and nodded.

"If you be sure, lady" he said.

Chayney said quietly to Petrilla,

"That was compassionate and noticing of you, lady. And I like that as much as your spirit."

She met his eyes; and on impulse agreement was made in a glance.

That night they rested at the Port Hold at the estuary mouth; and Petrilla went to Chayney's bed.

She had taken lovers before; and nor was he inexperienced. The tension between them had been building and they enjoyed the night's release!

Petrilla slept; but it seemed but a few minutes before Chayney wakened her.

"We'll need to be up to catch the tide, lovely lady" he said "And tempted as I was to let you sleep I somehow thought you'd be angry enough to skin me if I did!"

She grinned cheerfully at him.

"Oh indeed!" she agreed.

"You'll enjoy the dawn" he said "All the estuarine avians fly up at once, the sound is tremendous!"

Even with the warning of the noise, Petrilla was not prepared; one moment they were poling along through the grey dawn, then the sky suddenly took on hues of gold and rose and scarlet; and the air was full of the thunderous roar from the wings of thousands of avians taking flight! The myriad cries and honks and hoots that were their cries, loud as they too were, were all but drowned out in the whirring cacophony of countless wings beating!

Petrilla almost ducked!

"Where do they all go in Threadfall?" she wondered.

"Some dive or bury themselves in mud with the same kind of bill as the Strider; others have massive lungs and hold their breath for the full ten minutes it takes Thread to pass; others go into mud hollows under the riverbank" Chayney said "Ah, the tide's really getting going now!"

They had to stay near enough to the shore for the poles to reach the bottom; but not so close as to foul on the marsh vegetation, the flowing tide roiling and foaming in competition to the river's inexorable passage, swashing against the bluff shapes of the rafts that rose and fell with a quite nauseating motion.

Petrilla knelt down and stayed in the middle, glad of Chayney's advice beforehand to take this position for ease!

He was singing,

"Pole in, pole out, never mind the waterspout

down the river logs to ride, racing 'gainst the rising tide!"

and he poled to the rhythm of his song. Once she knew the words and tune, Petrilla joined in; it took her mind off feeling sick!

A great stone jetty ran out a way into the swamp, sloping into the water; and men from the Hold were waiting with rollers to get the rafts out and away as quickly as possible. The last one had just been hauled up under Chayney's direction as slack water was coming to an end; it had taken quite two hours.

He grinned at Petrilla.

"Fun?"

"I'm glad I did it" she said "But I never felt so sick in all my life! I'm glad we had no time for breakfast!"

"Then I honour your spirit more for singing so lustily" he said, touching her hand "If I forswore loving wenches, would you think about being a logger's wife?"

Petrilla was touched.

She met his eye steadily.

"Chayney, I'd rather share pleasure with you; I'm not ready for settling down yet, and I think I'd make a terrible wife. I'm a shrew and used to running my own affairs; and going off on my own for days on end just because I feel like it."

He laughed ruefully.

"What woman isn't used to running her own affairs? Some are just more tactful than others! I - I hope I didn't offend?"

"Never" she said, touching his arm "I take it as a compliment."

"The offer remains open" he said "I never met anyone I'd like to settle with before."

"Then the compliment is greater" said Petrilla "We'll share furs – or rather, sheets in this heat – until you go back upstream?"

"If you're willing it would be my greatest pleasure" he said sincerely.

He was big, and solid, and dependable; and cautious, without that destroying a sense of fun. There was that about him that reminded her of H'llon.

He was a good man; but Petrilla knew that even if she felt like settling, she would go insane for want of stimulation. He spoke knowledgeably about what he did know; but he had his limitations.

She regretted any hurt she might bring him in her refusal; but it was less than the hurt of breaking up acrimoniously in a turn or two, as she felt sure they would. And in the meantime, they might at least share sexual pleasure together!


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

The caves under Igen Hold were labyrinthine and extensive, many small caverns, long passages of varying width and chambers of different sizes. The main chamber was used for trading and to receive the daily dole from Lady Holder Doris and to wait to see one of the three Healers she always brought with her to tend the ailments of the Holdless. The disadvantage of this main cavern was that it flooded regularly. This high spring tide the floor was awash, and the Lady would go to a smaller, less convenient cavern. The whole concept of this inconvenience seemed to be quite accepted by the inmates.

Residents of the Holdless caverns were taking advantage of shellfish brought higher than usual; others dug for edible roots as the tide retreated, or dragged in fish in trawl nets. The previous day's catch of shellfish had been soaking overnight and were ready to add to the stew that formed the staple diet of those who accepted the daily handouts of bread and a bowl of stew, queuing – for the most part – quietly and politely for it.

The Holdless here looked healthy and well fed, at least in contrast to those of the High Reaches; and seemed generally cheerful. One might almost call them unofficial Holderfolk of Igen Hold.

The greatest advantage of Igen Holdless Caverns however was the information.

It was said that all knowledge about everyone and everything on Pern passed through here; and Petrilla was not about to dispute that. The Holdless picked up a lot, some deliberately like herself, by paying the drudges treated as invisible by their masters – or more particularly their mistresses – and some merely by overhearing for themselves. Itinerant workers mended and made while holderfolk blithely discussed even quite private affairs in front of them; for such Holdless types were not people and did not matter in the views of most! And so many Holdless ended up at Igen! The Igen caves were famed for a good living and Petrilla suspected that many Holdless that could manage to, made their way here just for the easy life. Fuel was available; not so readily as in Lemos, but Lord Laudey too encouraged the growing of trees in such places that his hot lands would support them, and fuel here was only needed for cooking. Already the sun was unbearably hot outside and Petrilla determined that her first purchase would be of a wide brimmed Igen hat! At least the caves were cool, limestone caverns, many of them with cool dripping water running down the walls or dripping from the ceilings, some gloriously decorated with stalactites and stalagmites; the locals called them 'downers' or 'uppers' and used the predominance of one or another and their precise colour to give directions for navigation in this warren of tunnels. Petrilla supposed that the various colours from the soils leached through the rock to affect the colours; pinks, yellows and browns seemed to predominate, the same colours as were in the striated rock outside, but here in pastel hues and with gleaming limestone sparkling.

From what she had heard, the weyrartist would be fascinated to visit this place; Petrilla determined to send a message at some point to that effect. Preferably after she was ready to leave; no sense in being greeted cheerfully by someone who, she understood, lived for art alone and might not understand the delicacy of Petrilla's situation.

In this, Petrilla wronged Geriana, who was as hard-headed a logicator as any; but never having met her, the Holdless woman preferred to err on the side of caution.

The caves were so extensive that finding one to herself and an antechamber for Veekram was no real challenge. The cave she chose was off the beaten track, and careful exploration around it revealed two tunnels off it plunged into who knew what; but they might be avoided. And being off the beaten track was not necessarily a disadvantage.

Less advantageous was the narrow passage directly to the outside, a good enough bolt-hole in trouble but also an invitation to unwanted visitors. Petrilla spent some time constructing a wall butressed well on the inside that would deter anyone from without; but should give with a hefty kick from the inside.

She also wanted to wall off the passages that led to the drops, in case the children joined her later; it was as well to be safe.

Meantime, and especially until Veekram arrived, she meant to make the most of her time with Chaney when he had finished the formalities with the Hold steward, recording numbers and types of logs for the Hold records.

Her hair was distinctive; and he found her easily enough, setting up her bead curtain. The echoes were good here and she heard him from a way off, and identified his step; but the bead curtain would stay. There was no such thing as too many precautions.

"Pretty" he indicated it.

She jingled her beads and myriad fairy echoes of bells played a faint carillon around the cave long after the original jingle had died away.

"Noisy" she explained "I know if anyone comes."

"Nice" he approved, grinning at her "We're not likely to be disturbed, then!"

Chayney was probably not supposed to stay as long as three days; but it was a fun time. And when Veekram turned up with the carts carrying other goods from the port, she bade Chayney a fond farewell without regrets and pleased that it ended perforce before either of them had tired of it. It was a bittersweet parting; but left her with pleasant memories. She hoped it would be the same for the logger.

Then it was time to set up properly in business.

"I thought I'd wait for my partner" she said to Veekram. She doubted if he believed that; Chayney had insisted on a long, lingering farewell kiss. But it was none of Veekram's business.

Without the distraction of lust, Petrilla explored further. A small chamber had running water in it; too small to use as a sleeping room it would be well enough to bathe – the water was cold but she was hardy – in the small pool formed by turns of wear from the small cascade; and there was moreover sweet fresh water to drink. A bucket for a necessary was customarily emptied into the tide as it turned on the ebb 'to feed the shellfish that feed us' as one Holdless put it. Petrilla emptied her bucket down into one of the chasms for the time being at least.

The chamber Petrilla had initially selected as her own that seemed to be a narrow, blind passage of a room petering out after about a length did not end. Stowing kit in the apex, Petrilla found to her consternation that it actually made an abrupt right turn and ended up opening out behind a big rock almost back in the main area of habitation.

That needed blocking too.

Petrilla was no mason; but she soon found a minercrafter and paid him to cut rock, she told him for the purpose of widening her own room.

No need to tell a stranger your real purpose after all.

One of the dangerous shafts could be dealt with more readily than just blocking it off; sawn planks filched from those cut from the very rafts she had travelled on were able to make a secure platform across it, and with a circular hole cut out of the planks it was as convenient a necessary as any and better than a lot. Comforts like a seat could come later. The passage she chose ended almost immediately after the chasm, so she had no need to worry about THAT joining up with another passage! To be sure, in time the planks would rot; but not during her tenure. The most time she would be likely to stay here would be a turn; and quite probably less.

The thought of staying for an Igen winter was tempting though.

The other passageway that led to a shaft – and on ahead the other side of the drop too far to see past the extent of light cast by glows – she blocked securely, buying slaked lime to mortar it together as hardset, adding gravel and sand from a stream that flowed into the estuary above the high tide mark; estuarine sand was no good. The salt ate away at the hardset; Petrilla recalled her father half killing a builder who had lazily used sand dug from beside a salt mine. Someone who did not know that had blocked the outside passage once with salt-contaminated hardset and the previous wall had fallen down.

It was actually worth while considering a door. A wooden one would do just fine if it was set back, just to the outside of her bathing cavern, she thought. Especially if she could get skybroom.

The short length of passage before the drop that she had blocked off would do for now as a storage cavern; she had deliberately left a long enough stretch to sleep a man in, in case she needed more quarters. It was well to plan for any eventuality.

It was as good a Hold as any Holdless woman could get, thought Petrilla, private for her clients and away from the stench of other humans. However kind Lord Laudey and Lady Doris might be in feeding and treating their unofficial tenants they did not provide bathing facilities and the estuary was no substitute. And people in quantity tended to smell.

All she needed to do now was to set up a small forge to work, and let people know she was available to buy and sell. And that sort of rumour spread about as soon as it was spoken.

Someone who would buy was always in demand; and Petrilla rarely turned down any deal. Even shell beads, common here, would command better prices back in the High Reaches and pearl shell was good most places. Igen was famed for its glassware too; and several urchins earned themselves more than they might have expected mudlarking for broken coloured glass for Petrilla to re-melt and turn into beads. One goblet with a broken stem she ground back and mounted on a cast bronze stem; the Igen sands made good casting sand as well as superior glass, even though she might have to buy the resins to mix with it. If she could cast good quality pieces it would be worth it to buy some beyond the small quantity she stole to cast her goblet stem. That piece would sell well on a Gather stall; and worth making more!

The stones that predominated here in jewellery were opals and turquoises; and Petrilla loved both. Some were stolen; plenty were scavenged from the previous turn's dry season. In the height of summer, the river reduced to a series of braided channela meandering through thick red mud, in which mud larks would find no end of things dropped in the river, not only at Igen itself but often things carried downstream that had been dropped many miles away upstream! Petrilla assumed they would work the mud early in the morning, tide permitting, when it was still chill after the night; it was too hot even now, early in the turn, in the middle of the day; and Petrilla believed firmly that if she went out in high summer she would bake as red and cracked as the clay!

There was plenty of work for the four mudlarks of Lemos, and a Harper available for the Holdless children two mornings a sevenday which was better than many cotbred children might expect. Accordingly she sent a message by Griss, concentrating on images of mudlarks, her own work and the suggestion of being together. It was hardly worth writing to them, after all; she strongly doubted any of them were litierate!

She also gave the firelizard four marks to grasp in his claws and instructions to give them to Piaz. He cheeped understanding and vanished.

It was useful to have a bronze, thought Petrilla. A green would be scarcely capable of remembering so much coherently; and would have to have the marks tied to her neck lest she forgot and dropped them; and blues were scarcely any cleverer than greens! Griss was the cleverest; and she spent time telling him so when he reappeared, with images of willing children.

Petrilla sent Griss with a written message to T'rin, explaining all about the underbridge community and asking for a Harper prepared to be a renegade from his craft, or at least under a cloud. T'rin would know what to do!

T'rin did.

He replied,

"Got a couple in mind; thanks."

That was sorted out anyway; and Petrilla was pleased!

As Petrilla settled into her work there was a brief dispute between her, on behalf of her local scavenging urchins, and a character known as 'Gruesome Gresham'.

Gresham took it upon himself to prepare the bodies of the dead to be taken down river and sunk, as seaholders did. If they had no immediate – or apparent at least – family, it was understood that for this grim service, anything of which they died possessed was his. The dispute was that some of the loot the children found might have been his, things he had missed – or so he claimed.

Petrilla pointed out that as the bodies were taken to a place where they were unlikely to be returned by the tide, no more was anything he missed likely to be returned either; and that if he ever HAD missed anything she believed wherries were dainty and ate with knives and forks.

Gresham disliked his occupation being referred to obliquely as like the scavenging of the carrion wherry; but the crowd listening in could not fault Petrilla's reasoning, and were behind her for her amusing comments!

Besides, 'Gruesome' was no poopular character; in the height of summer, when, in contrast to the High Reaches most of the elderlies died, he was to be seen peering at sleeping bodies, and poking them to check if they were still alive to make sure no-one else looted them first.

Not unnaturally, it created some ill feeling; especially those who had received a rude awakening of having 'Gruesome's' bony finger in their ribs.

'Gruesome' dared not irritate Petrilla too much either. The items he took were many and varied; and some the red-haired fence had bought had been items ha never thought he would sell. Illiterate and pig-ignorant, Gresham put no store in parchments and paper; but was too acquisitive to throw anything away!

Petrilla had amassed from him a fine collection of signatures and writing styles from warrants, orders for goods and even love letters filched and kept! It had given her a good trade in forged warrants at five marks a time and an unexpected source of income!

Gresham had spat; and gave in, in the face of Petrilla's championing the children he had hoped to intimidate into giving up finds.

Petrilla demanded – an got – a whole mark from him as compensation to the urchin whose arm he had been twisting when she interrupted the dispute.

The child was amazed and gratified to get it all!

Many would have taken a fee; as much as half of it!

The mudlarks were prepared to work hard for Petrilla after that and bring her information for free too.

It was several sevendays before Piaz and his siblings arrived on the boats of the riverpeople. Petrilla was tending greens in the area outside her 'door', in a sheltered spot protected by several young skybroom saplings well above the general high water level, and free enough of salt to make gardening worth while. The skybrooms too hid the garden from casual gaze. Petrilla had planted hotroot seeds and finger roots and various spring greens and brassicas, and protected them with snares that had brought her several conies and large rodies for the cookpot; and she contributed anything spare to the Hold cooks for their dole stew. She was not a keen gardener though, it must be admitted; and gladly left her hoeing the moment she saw the little boats on the river, hoping they brought the children; and went inside to cut through the main living caverns. Petrilla had no intention of drawing attention to her 'back door' by scoring a path to it with frequent passage; particularly since she has since found out that this way in may have been once used by the Lady Holdless Thella !

Thella would get a surprise if she came back!

Instead of a hastily cobbled together wall of dubious construction there was now a stout skybroom door, hung from stout hinges driven deep into the stone doorposts Petrilla had paid to have cut straight; and the door was well barred and bolted.

Let her try to sneak through THAT!

Petrilla waved to the children as they disembarked, looking around nervously; and went to greet them.

"Did I send enough to buy passage with Tyrell's people?" she asked "I thought he'd take it as a down payment if he asked more; I did not want you to be at risk from thieves by sending too much."

"Oh we worked for our food, it was no problem" said Piaz "And they give us some more clothes too, 'cos we worked well."

"That was generous of them" said Petrilla "I will purchase you more clothing as well of course, as it is the duty of a master or journeyman to feed, equip and outfit his apprentices" she added hastily as the proud look started to come into the boy's eyes. "Go into the cavern in the cool; I just want to see Tyrell about a matter."

She asked the water gypsy bluntly,

"Do I owe you anything for your good care of the children?"

He grinned.

"Not a thirtysecond. They're good hard workers; if I'd known I might have suggested adopting them into our clan first."

"If they don't like working for me, they might like that option; I'll tell them if they may, that they have the chance to choose."

"You be good mistress then, Lady-not-Harper" he said "Reckon they'm lucky to have fallen on their feet; I don't suppose they'll be taking me up on it!"

Petrilla shrugged.

"They might have got the taste of riverlife and travel. I travel, but mostly on the ten-hoofed runnerbeast. Thanks for your care! I consider that I owe you a favour! And speaking of favours, I would be grateful if, next time you're at the bridge, you'll let them know I've passed the word to someone I know about a harper for them. He trained as a harper this friend of mine; but he does….other things these days."

It implied a shady occupation for T'rin without actually lying.

Tyrell nodded.

"I'm going to see the Harper that teach here and ask if all our rhymes and shanties are from teaching ballads" he said.

"There might be some work songs written by folk of your own with talent; if so I should think any decent harper would be glad to write them down to be sure they are not lost" said Petrilla "The Harpers believe in freedom and free choice; they'd fight for your right to choose to travel and have independence, you know; and value your songs for springing from that independence."

"That so? Then maybe I've got them all wrong. I recall when I was a nipper, before Thread, we stopped one place to have classes and the Harper told us we'd be better to live in Holds and that we did everything the wrong way."

"Huh, every craft has its idiots and dullards" said Petrilla "as to telling you to live in Holds I expect he was thinking about Thread coming back and being unimaginative could not see how anyone might cope living outside; and as for doing things wrong, well, any different way of doing things throws the inflexible into a flat spin. I suspect he meant well. What sort of things did he criticise?"

"Oh, the way we beat the drum, the way we tried to write…we beat the drum with a two ended stick and we use fingers and thumb to hold it loosely to make different sounds."

"Oh, the bodhran!" said Petrilla "It's a Ruathan drum, most of the runner traders use it….. I don't know….yes, they DO use it in the Harper Hall, because I've seen them for sale on craft stalls. I guess this fellow hadn't seen one, and couldn't cope with adapting it to message drums and was frantic you'd be able to beat for aid."

"Well, if he's not like all Harpers, we'll be glad to see what they can teach; I keep an open mind" said Tyrell. "I'll be off to see the Harper now then, if you'll excuse me – I saw a flash of Harper blue."

Petrilla let him go; and went to collect her apprentices!


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Piaz, Syeira, Tawn and Dessi were waiting in a little huddle.

"Hats first!" said Petrilla cheerfully "And you don't go out in the hottest part of the day at all. We'll get you loose shirts and trews of cotton, a quilted jacket - because it's cold first thing in the morning and the evening – and sandals. There's a lot of sharp stones and broken glass hidden in the mud and you don't want to risk cutting your feet. Good, well-laced sandals with toe and heel pieces will protect you without being too hot."

To the minds of the children, their new quarters were palatial!

Each had a bedroll, a carisac for their clothes, three changes of clothing, a drying cloth of their own and best of all somewhere dry to sleep!

Petrilla impressed on them the importance of not leaving trail to tempt others up to steal from them by taking a short cut from their small garden outside the cave down to the river. She explained that the younger two might join the mudlarks or work the garden; and showed them the forge that the older two would learn how to use.

During this explanation, Tawn went and peed in the corner; and Petrilla stared, horrified.

"Well there ain't no side to pee over!" he explained.

Petrilla took them all firmly to her necessary, now furnished with a stool over it and shutting lid and a blanket door for privacy.

"Cuh!" said Piaz "Ain't seen nuthin' like that before!"

"They have seats like this at the stern of the boats for crapping and for girls to pee" said Syeira. "Where's it go? There ain't no river here."

"Deep into the earth" said Petrilla "Proper ones in Holds have a chamber below that's dug out once a turn; the best ones have running water through them to carry what goes down some way into the chamber, so the smell doesn't come up."

"Cuh!" said Piaz again, impressed.

They have no idea ay all of civilised living, thought Petrilla.

She explained to them most carefully about washing their hands afterwards, showing them the bowl of water that she changed daily, and the tub of brownsoap she had bartered for as preferable to sweetsand; and the bucket for the rag-on-a-stick.

"Dessi and Tawn, as your duties you can either take it in turns or help each other with emptying the water each morning and refilling the bowl and bucket" she said "Give the rag-on-a-stick for wiping yourselves a good extra rinse before putting the water out, and replace it with a clean one. Then take the dirty one outside to wash thoroughly and leave it to dry" she said.

They had to have the rag-on-a-stick explained; they had never wiped themselves after defecating before, only dipped their rear end in the river if it was sticky.

They would soon learn.

They would also go to the Harper on the mornings that this worthy visited; and Petrilla brooked no argument over that when Piaz protested.

"No-one is too old to learn" she said "Veekram goes; I need you to be able to read and write fluently. I shall teach you all more in the evenings, but I want you to have a Harper education. You can ask me if there's anything he teaches that you don't understand, or disagree with. If I want to send you as my agent somewhere what good would it be if I can't write messages to you to send by Griss or get written reports back by him?"

Piaz thought about that.

"I suppose that's reasonable" he said "But I won't sing. I can't hold a tune in a sack."

"Well then, for teaching ballads you'll just have to chant them" said Petrilla "But learn them you will. They might save your life one day."

Piaz looked quickly to see if she was joking; and saw from her face she was not.

He nodded.

After all, it was a small price to pay for this remarkable rise in lifestyle!

Tawn and Dessi were happy to mudlark in the cooler parts of the day; through the heat they practised reading and writing by laboriously copying simple words on a flat piece of rock with chalk and reading them to each other; and Piaz and Syeira could not but absorb the same while working with Petrilla.

The older ones started their apprenticeship by working the bellows while Petrilla explained what she was doing, as Grissom had explained to her; and she let them melt broken glass and make beads too, to give them a sense of achievement.

Piaz she took also outside her bead curtain to meet clients; she had placed a chair there now, and a bell to ring for her, rather than have her living space invaded. Veekram stood behind the chair looking menacing; he did that very well.

The eyepatch did help.

There were a dozen or so thieves in the Holdless caverns, not counting juvenile pickpockets and opportunists. Most of them were muggers, something Petrilla despised; but she dealt with them anyway for the time being because she had no intention of rocking the boat for now.

"We don't normally deal with their sort" she said to Piaz "Violence is so unnecessary. I don't like it. They're too stupid, or more often too lazy to steal with any finesse."

"Why deal with them now then?" asked Piaz.

"Because I'm here predominantly to get information. I trade information as well as goods; and there's too many of them for me to consider taking them on, as I should be if I antagonise them. If I could arrange for them to be followed and caught in the act, it would be nice; but there's no way of letting anyone in authority know what they look like."

"Couldn't Tawn draw them as you've lots of paper and you write 'this is a bad man' on it and drop it where Lord Laudey's men will find it?"

"Why, can Tawn draw?"

"You bet he can, lady!"

Petrilla nodded to Tawn; and gave him paper.

The likeness of her was rapid; and remarkable.

"You draw all my clients, my lad, and you'll earn yourself a bonus; and I'll get you an apprenticeship with a proper artist who can teach you what I can't" said Petrilla.

Tawn's eyes widened.

"To draw all I like? And have stuff to draw with?"

"As much as you like; and probably more; you'll have your nose kept to the grindstone, my lad."

Tawn was awed.

"Oooh….Piaz, would you mind?"

"Not if they're good to you; lady, would you really? And can you vouch for anyone?"

Petrilla nodded.

"I know a man who knows an artist" she said "I never met her, but I heard she's good."

"A lady artist?" said Piaz "She ain't so likely to beat on him then as a man."

"Word is she sent her boyfriend to beat up an artist who beat on his apprentice and took the kid on herself" said Petrilla "I trust her by her reputation; and I certainly trust her friend and mine who vouches for her."

"Good enough" said Piaz "You done good by us; who you trust, we trust."

"Will she let me carve shells?" asked Tawn.

"What do you mean?" Petrilla was puzzled.

"I didn't have no paper nor nuffin to draw on so I carved shells" said Tawn, heaving out of his pouch pieces of river shellfish, into which he had carved scenes, the darker inside showing through the cameo relief. A few ha had obviously done since coming to Igen, being on the larger, harder salt water shells.

They were a little clumsy; but had promise.

"What do you carve with?" asked Petrilla

He showed her the blade of a knife, worn to a point, set roughly in a stick for a handle.

"I'll get you proper tools" said Petrilla "and make sure the artist knows about this skill of yours!"

Locating diamond-tipped jewellery cutters was not hard; Petrilla wanted the boy to have his own rather than give him the run of hers. Once Tawn had got the hang of using them, learning not to use too much force being the greatest skill to learn, the work improved beyond all recognition.

"I'll buy anything you make that you're prepared to sell, Tawn" said Petrilla "But that you must do in your leisure time if you want full price or I'll only pay the quarter amount an apprentice gets, because you have your other jobs to do as duty to me in return for you keep and training,"

Tawn grinned.

He did not mind.

He had more materials than he could ever have believed possible and more leisure too than he had enjoyed in the harsh existence he and his siblings had been scratching before.

Petrilla sent a message by Griss to T'rin, requesting a covert meet, primarily to talk about the muggers. She thought that information handed on by a Harper would be better received than from a Bronze Rider from the wrong weyr.

T'rin looked nondescript enough, breezing through the main caverns; a dangerously competent looking youth arriving just before Threadfall and in no wise bothered by being only just in time for the siren to sound its rising and falling note.

"Oh there you are Red" he said, on catching sight of Petrilla "Thought you might be around somewhere here; been a long time" he caught her to him and kissed her familiarly.

It was not a liberty, but a suggestion of how to play it; and he was a skilled enough kisser that Petrilla played along willingly enough before pulling back.

"Here? You have to be joking! I've a snug little cave to lie out Threadfall in" she said.

"And what better way to spend Fall!" T'rin slapped her on the rump.

She turned.

"I don't let any man do that….AS you should know! Don't presume on occasional shared pleasure, Trinner!"

Once in her cavern, she showed him the pictures of the violent men, asking if he thought it appropriate to show Lord Laudey and his men.

"I'll say" said T'rin "Any one of them might be associated with Thella; and if not, getting muggers into enforced labour is NOT something I object to. These are good likenesses, did you do them?"

She shook her head and indicated Tawn.

"At his age? I'm very impressed" said T'rin "So will Geriana be…..you fancy an apprenticeship, shortstuff?"

"Lady Petrilla said she'd fix it" said Tawn "Is your friend the same one she meant?"

"I expect so" said T'rin "Unless she knows more artists than I thought!" Petrilla nodded confirmation to Tawn. T'rin added, "I can take him to her now if you like".

"I haven't explained to them or my bodyguard anything about you" said Petrilla.

"Are you going to?" he asked.

She hesitated.

"It may be necessary for them to know" she said "And it would be churlish to conceal where Tawn is to go. Do you all trust me?"

The children chorused in the affirmative; Veekram nodded.

"I'll go a roundabout way to this; bear with me. I chose to live Holdless because I despised my relatives" she said "They were grasping and unkind. And I didn't want to get wed to be out of the way. Some people don't get to choose to live Holdless – none of you did I wager."

"We're free though" said Piaz.

"Truly; and when I first saw you I'd have said you were free to starve" Petrilla said dryly "It'd only take one of you catching an ailment to have caused you all problems. And Veekram's Holdless because his mother chose a careless husband over her son's safety; I wager HE'd rather be back as a smithcrafter."

"Aye, I would" said Veekram "But I've not the dexterity for it."

Petrilla filled T'rin in quickly; and he winced.

"Firelizard'd help" he said

"What I wondered" said Petrilla "Anyway, people, in High Reaches some nosy dragonmen wondered why people got to be Holdless and started asking questions; and discovered that children got orphaned and abandoned, babies got left exposed and so on; so they decided to start an orphan-hold to look after unwanted children and they asked me, as a purveyor of information, to find things out about people who ought not to be Holdless. Like Veekram."

"We're not unwanted are we?" said Dessi, pulling at her arm "You want us don't you?"

"Oh yes, I do!" said Petrilla, slipping an arm round the child, who leaned on her. "But I've become a sort of foster mother to you and a foster mother tries to do her best for her children. And best for Tawn is to learn to be an artist. And Geriana is the weyrartist as T'rin here is a weyrsinger."

"He's a DRAGONMAN?" said Piaz "And him so polite and friendly!"

T'rin roared with laughter.

"You want to watch it, young Piaz, or I might steal you on search and make YOU a dragonman!" he said.

"Could I be?" there was scarcely suppressed excitement in the boy's voice.

T'rin considered.

"It's possible. But let me advise you, young Piaz – you've been a father to your siblings. Let Petrilla be a mother for a while, so you can learn to be a boy again not the man of the family. If you Impress it's a responsible thing. Spend a turn or two having a bit of irresponsibility. I know; believe me. I cared, Holdess, for my crippled sister from the age of ten for two whole turns. Then the weyr took us both and with others helping her I had time to be me. I didn't Impress right away, instead I became a Harper and had the time of my life as an apprentice. When I made Journeyman I returned to Impress, and by then I felt old enough to leave childhood behind. It's all very well for those who have childhoods to Impress early; they already had the chance to get silliness out of their systems and they also have stability behind them. You need to grasp a time of childhood, lad, because you'll never have it back and that, in the long term, makes for grumpy old men who harbour childish ideas."

Piaz grinned.

"Thanks, dragonman; and thanks for sharing your story. I reckon I understand what you mean. Will…will you give me a chance? Reckon I'd rather fly a dragon than anything else; and the only other thing I could learn is to be a thief, and thieves always lose in the end."

"True enough. Petrilla's training you to be a fence though rather than a thief; which is better and safer. Just remember you'll never be FREE as a dragonman, that you set so much store on. The bond of love between you and your dragon you'll never resent; but you're tied by Thread, duty to the people of Pern, and particularly duty to your Wing because our lives depend on each other. Don't make the choice lightly."

Piaz considered.

"I never thought of that…we think of dragonmen being the freest. But I guess I'm bound too – by not walking openly with the Holderfolk, by having to get safe during Threadfall, by having to make a living for the kids. I suppose nobody's really free, are they? We're all bound by something even if it's only the need to do best by those we love!"

"You'll do" said T'rin "I'll be back for you in a turn or two, lad. And you can go on with your apprenticeship with the weyrsmith if you want. As would you if you came to the weyr" he nodded to Veekram "If you'd a mind. Even if you're never dextrous you can gain knowledge and then teach it."

"You are the biggest thief going, T'rin!" said Petrilla "How can I work for the weyr when you steal all my people?"

"I'LL stay with you!" said Dessi.

"And me" said Syeira "Though I WOULD like to fly a dragon one day."

"Oh you'll all visit the weyr sometime no doubt" said T'rin "Of the decenter side of her family, Petrilla's half sister is Impressed and Meliandra is standing this time, and Po will when she's old enough."

"Meliandra IS standing? I'm glad" said Petrilla "Veekram's in age if you need the pretext of Search."

"I stay with My Lady" said Veekram "I'd like to learn more smithing one day though."

"I'm thinking of overwintering her" said Petrilla "I know that's looking forward, we haven't had midsummer yet. But then I'd a mind to go to High Reaches Weyr. Piaz, we can see about a clutch whenever after we get there. Tawn, will you go with T'rin now? We can send you notes via Griss and find out how you're doing."

Tawn hesitated; then nodded.

"I want to draw more."

T'rin nodded quickly.

"I'll go officially to Laudey with these then" he said "And come back for you, lad; give you the chance to say goodbye and get your stuff together."

"And gather lots of shells" said Petrilla "There's none to be had at High Reaches; you may not have noticed this, T'rin, but there's very little beach on the top of a mountain" and she showed T'rin an example of Tawn's work.

He whistled in appreciation.

"Well I shall even ignore your jibes for the privilege of seeing that… there may not be a beach on top of a mountain, but there's the next best thing; loads of dragons that can go to the pick of beaches for the pick of shells. I know a palce we can get bigger, better shells than these; and if we're lucky, firelizard eggs too!"

"OOH!" Tawn's eyes shone "For all of us? Veekram an' Piaz an' Syeira an' Dessi an' me?"

"Well we shall have to see about that" laughed T'rin "See what we find! I'll be back presently!" and he ruffled Tawn's hair and swung away with his confident stride.

"I like him" said Piaz.

"So do I" said Petrilla "He's a rogue of course; but then he's a Harper!"


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

It felt strange without Tawn; and Dessi was a bit withdrawn for her brother's absence. Petrilla sent Syeira to mudlark with the smaller girl for a little while in the mornings, then let Dessi watch her older siblings learning about jewellery crafting and listen to lessons about how to size up a man and judge correctly how much what he offered might be worth.

"And a lot of that is experience" said Petrilla "The carnelian necklace I had off you, for example, is pretty; and I broke it up because I could make a higher priced geegaw by putting that high quality silverwork with amber, that people pick off the estuary beaches here, or turquoise. I'll keep that to sell in the High Reaches where it will fetch a good price where amber and turquoise are both prized for scarcity value. Opals too are prized there, though they are common here. At the Summer Gather here I should be wanting to sell garnets and rubies, pearl, emerald and sapphires that fetch good prices here. I don't have all of those, but what I have I expect to do well with. Pearl shell too, which is prized everywhere save the most southerly beaches. Those things that are common fetch a lower price than those things that are uncommon. Jewellery is worth what people are prepared to pay; and whilst a Holder and his wife might easily send for unusual stones or travel dragonback to other, distant, gathers, their lesser relatives and the senior workers in a Hold and especially their wives still like to show off, having something no other woman in the Hold has. Because that's status; and you're not just selling something pretty, you're selling something to boast about, to be one up over other women. Or one up over other men in the way you adorn your woman."

"It sounds rather silly" said Piaz uncertainly.

"Of course it's rather silly" said Petrilla "Most Ranking and well-off women ARE rather silly. You can't sell them any old rubbish; but if you study their needs, wants and desires then you can sell them any old rubbish that you can talk a good tale into fulfilling those requirements! Trust me; it works."

"As well for us that they're such idiots" said Piaz, grinning.

"Too fardling right!" she agreed. "Not that I ever do sell rubbish; I take pride in my work. I was taught meticulously by a renegade smithcraft journeyman; he'd picked up some lapidary too but I generally hire out serious gem cutting jobs."

"You mean to disguise something like the half-fingerlength black opal that Lady Doris wears?" asked Piaz.

"You picked that up quickly; well done" said Petrilla "Yes, like that. But it's heartbreaking to cut a beautiful stone; often better if you can try to see if you can get a finder's fee, claiming it was bartered to you."

Piaz nodded seriously.

"I think that's a good idea" he said "Spoiling something beautiful just to make marks if you don't really need to is kind of wrong."

"Piaz, I like the way you think" said Petrilla.

"Do you try to make enough at each Gather to live till the next?" asked Syeira.

"A good question. I try to trade, selling as well as buying, all turn long; traders and marksmen will often buy goods, at a lower price than I might get for them on my own stall at a Gather, but it's a guaranteed sale; and it's not always possible to get a stall. Or prohibitively expensive. Some Holds charge high prices to people they don't know. On my home territory there's a Hold where I can always get a stall for the Spring and Autumn Gathers; other places I'm a bit wary, even if I might be permitted to hire one. Sometimes those without craft knots are just outright denied. Or for other reasons; some parts of the High Reaches are so backward they've scarcely discovered the wheel, let alone hold the belief that women can do anything except bear children. That's Fax's fault in the main, but it makes for a nervous existence for an itinerant craftswoman. I'd be more likely to be called thief because I must have stolen everything because obviously women can't actually work forges and make things."

"Are there really people that stupid?" wondered Piaz.

"Lad, I've met people so stupid I could get better conversation from their ovines" said Petrilla "Isolated small Holds still even often shun Harpers because Harpers sing lies – even though the lies they were supposed to sing about manifest themselves every seven sevendays when Thread falls. Getting a new idea into the heads of such people is like hammering a nail into skybroom with your thumb."

The children chuckled at the simile.

"I guess it'll help having Veekram and me along?" said Piaz.

"Oh yes, I'll be less likely to receive insult if I have my herdsmen along to keep me safe" said Petrilla with heavy irony. "I wager it drives the weyrwomen half _Between_ if they encounter those types. Mind, the weyrwomen, Gold or Green Riders alike, or support staf for that matter, would be likely to lay them out."

Syeira giggled.

"I thought there was only one female Green Rider?" she said.

"Oh there's quite a few at High Reaches" said Petrilla "It's only that Mirrim is louder and more….noticed. High Reaches just accept it so nobody makes a big thing about it. With such hidebound beliefs there's a lot of women who run away to the weyr in the hopes of a better life than a baby every turn and some stupid pork-brained oaf of a hidebound husband to beat her as the way he shows his affection. Don't mind me, kids, I have an aversion towards certain High Reaches men…we're well off the subject of buying and selling. And something I need to find out is what trader families go through and if they'd buy from us."

"There's the Lilcamps" said Veekram "But I don't think they deal jewellery."

"We'll find out" said Piaz.

"And that's the biggest secret of success" said Petrilla "Finding things out. Even small pieces of knowledge are power."

The theft that was soon on everyone's lips made even Thella's bold raids look paltry.

A Queen egg had been stolen from Benden Weyr, it was whispered, and returned almost immediately, but hardened as though it had spent time somewhen else! Some said it was the Oldtimers; and that there would be war between dragonmen!

Petrilla shuddered.

She sent Gris to H'llon to ask for the truth.

H'llon wrote,

"Egg stolen and returned. Lessa having hissy fit. Our T'lana shouted at her; the war is probably off for now."

H'llon could be relied upon to give good concise cogent information, even if not with particularly full stories. The thought of dragonriders fighting made Petrilla feel sick; any Rider killed would be followed by a suiciding dragon, and that would be terrible!

The small Summer Gather at Igen was, however, a nervous sort of affair, even almost three sevendays on from the egg theft; the visiting dragonmen were all grim faced and vigilant. They came mostly from Ista and Igen Weyrs; Igen was the closest, though it was to the island Weyr of Ista that Igen Hold was, paradoxically enough, Beholden. Igen Weyr covered parts of northern Igen as well as southern Telgar and all of Keroon. Weyrs had to be situated where there were suitable extinct volcanoes, and covered such regions as seemed most appropriate to their situation. The few Riders from Benden were especially watchful; rumours wen round that some Riders were of the opinion that the Oldtimers had made a pact with the renegade Lady Thella, who wanted to ride a Golden Queen like her ill-fated sister Kylara. Petrilla doubted this theory on several counts.

Firstly, if Thella had wanted to be a Queenrider to rub her brother Larad's nose in her supposed cleverness, she could have presented herself at any weyr instead of becoming a renegade raider. Secondly, Petrilla doubted that the Oldtimers would have made a pact with any Holder woman let alone a renegade one; it was their arrogance towards non Riders that had earned them their exile in the first place. And if Thella had played on her relationship to a Queenrider they would certainly have despised the Queenrider in question for her liaison with a Lord Holder that ultimately led to the deaths of two Queens.

No, it seemed an unlikely theory; and so Petrilla said to Ch'sseri and D'vind when they sought her out to ask what she knew of it.

"It's habit to blame everything on either Thella or the Oldtimers; I don't dispute the latter had something to do with the theft – it needed the ability to go _Between_ to do it, and I never yet heard Thella could do that – but it's lazy thinking in many cases. There are other explanations than allying Pern's two biggest human threats" she said.

Ch'sseri looked crestfallen; D'vind pulled a rueful face.

"And I suppose to be a logicator means being able to discard bad theories too" he said "When the idea was put forward we thought we'd logicate it and try to find out; Thella's been known to come here, you see!"

"Yes, she had a secret way in. I have a stout door over it as MY bolthole out" said Petrilla. "She's not been here; whispers are that the death of a one-footed man called Brare may have been her work; he sold information. He sold information to her, certainly; and presumably she figured he sold information about her too. She's bad news, but I for one am not about to fall into the trap of ascribing all the ills of society to her, seemingly up to and including Thread the way some people talk. She's a violent criminal with a flair for organisation and a good education to back that up; but that's ALL she is. When she starts to get wrinkles, I wager a lot of those that would follow her will no longer want to know."

"You are a cynic, Lady Petrilla!" laughed Ch'sseri.

"I'm a woman; I know my sex and how men react to us" shrugged Petrilla "She has some force of personality, and charisma; but not enough, from what I've heard, to outlast her failing to be that novelty, an attractive strong woman. Lessa will lead men when she's as wrinkled as a stored apple; because she's MORE than the sexiest woman on Pern. Tell me, why are the dragonmen of Ista going about looking like they lost a mark and found a thirtysecond? They're gloomier than if the egg had never been returned!"

The lovers pulled wry faces.

"Their Weyrwoman is very sick; dying. D'ram, the Weyrleader, announced at the Benden Hatching yesterday that he's standing down; and calling an open flight when Caylith, the next senior Queen rises. It's a hard time for them."

Petrilla nodded, in sympathetic understanding.

She had learned enough from comments H'llon had made that a Weyr, and particularly its Bronze Riders, has a deep attachment to their Queens, especially their senior Queen, that went deeper than respect for a leader. It would explain why, of the Istan Riders, no Bronze Riders were present.

There was nothing to be done about it, however; so she shrugged and watched her fosterlings enjoy the Gather, the first one they had attended without having to steal to survive. She had given them a half mark each, and told them if there was any clothing, belts, boots or the like they wanted she would likely be persuaded to buy them unless their choice was too frivolous. They had gone off happily, well enough dressed to mingle with any holderfolk without shame. They, in common with most of those at the Gather, had no deep interest in the worries of the mysterious and distant figures of the dragonmen.

The high summer was too hot for anything much to take place during the day; the Gather Tent was set up early, and the tents of the stall holders, and a little business was done in the early part of the day. Through the heat of the day, however, everything closed and most visitors slept under the awning set up for that purpose. Their purses, goods and persons protected by patrolling guards.

Things started to come alive again when the sun sank down behind the great cliffs in which the Hold was situated, and the lengthening shadows brought welcome relief. The Gather would extend into the night, with glow baskets aplenty to light stalls and dancing ground; and for the latter, glows in glass containers of different colours of Igen glass, lighting the scene with a gay rainbow.

The shadows of course provided plenty of cover for thieves, professional and amateur; and Petrilla knew she would be assured plenty of clients the following day!

The next day, however, began late, for everyone had slept long, after the late night: and their awakening was a rude one.

The Hold dragon and the dragons of those Riders drunk enough to want to sleep it off under the Gather tent began that eerie keen that struck through the very bones of any that heard it.

Fanna was dead; and Mirath had gone _Between_ for all time.

Ista Weyr was leaderless, and the few Istan Riders who had been to drunk to return stumbled back to the liquor stalls that were packing up to get back to that blessed oblivion for a while.

Petrilla disliked drunkenness but under the circumstances she could understand.

The children were subdued when she explained the eerie noise to them; they had never heard it before.

"Does that mean they'll not be able to fight Thread until they have a Weyrleader?" asked Syeira, frightened.

"Of course they'll fight Thread! Do you think they're lazy no-goods like T'kul and the others sent South?" said Petrilla briskly. Fear was best counteracted with a no-nonsense tone. "Remember the teaching ballad – 'Dragonmen must fly When Threads are in the sky' you know! Just because D'ram has stepped down to deal with his grief for, effectively, his wife, doesn't mean the wingleaders and flightleaders won't be able to function at their job – they will! They practice formations until they can fly them in their sleep. You need not worry on that score!"

"He was sensible to step down in time to let the other Bronze Riders put themselves together to lead jointly" said Piaz "Before he lost her. When mother died, father just fell apart and sat staring at nothing all day; he wouldn't eat or drink. And then he just died too."

Petrilla put a hand over his. The children had never before spoken of what had happened, how they came to be alone and Holdless.

"I guess that's why I'm scared" admitted Syeira "I don't remember much, only that it was frightening and then we were on our own."

"There was a baby after Tawn" said Piaz "With mother dead, he died too; I fed him water and caprine milk but it wasn't enough. He wasn't very big. I tried to feed him and I tried to feed father!" he was crying.

Petrilla held her arms out for all the children; Dessi cried because the others did rather than from any real memories of her own.

"Oh Piaz, you did your best; and babies often die anyway" she told him, holding him as though he was a little boy. "Cry, son, cry all you need; you've been the man of the family too long. Let it out and grieve; and then you can move on and be Piaz properly like T'rin told you."

Disjointedly the story emerged; that Piaz felt guilty for feeling little grief over his father, who had never seemed interested in any of them; trying to keep the baby alive because his mother would have wanted him too, as she died to give the babe life, whilst secretly hating it for killing her.

He had been just seven turns old.

The family had been tinkers, travelling with a herd of caprines and a cart with their belongings. Piaz tried to carry on, but one by one they had to sell or slaughter the caprines to eat, and one night while he slept exhausted after a day's casual labour too much for a child of barely eight turns the cart and the mule that pulled it had been stolen. Piaz admitted his spirit nearly failed at that point; only the thought that he had to look after the younger ones kept him going. With nothing left they were turned away from Hold after Hold, sheltering against Threadfall in such caverns and scrapes as they could find until they fetched up at the bridge, and exhausted had stayed. Piaz thought he was about ten by that time.

"And you are a remarkable lad, and Syeira a remarkable little helper to have kept your infant siblings alive" said Petrilla, truly impressed. It was an exceptional effort; for Tawn had not been walking and Dessi an inquisitive toddler when Piaz became father to them.

Petrilla swore silently to herself that she would do her utmost to make the rest of their childhood as happy as possible!

She thought scorn on their father, too wrapped up in a selfish emotion for their mother that was too confining to be called love; that he had taken little interest in the children save to see them, no doubt, as objects of jealousy as rivals for the love of their mother; that he had failed in his duty to them by just giving up.

She hoped D'ram was made of sterner stuff.

The Riders of Ista Weyr could do with his advice, if not his leadership.

Still, Bronze dragons did not generally pick those who were weak willed; and it was not as though he had had his soul ripped in two by the loss of Tiroth.

He and all the weyr had her sympathy.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

After this inauspicious event, the Gather did indeed provide as much illicit loot as Petrilla had anticipated.

Pickpockets, adult and youthful, sought to change marks to lower denominations; and Petrilla made certain to recall the faces of the youngsters, and set Syeira and Piaz to finding out about them, lest any be ready to accept help. From more regular thieves she received such small items as they had taken from stalls, jewellery they had filched from those in their Gather finery and anything they found in pouches besides marks. There were youngsters too amongst these, and those who picked up anything that had been dropped, broken goods left behind and anything that might be of value to someone. It was now known that Petrilla would buy broken glassware to turn into beads; and there was plenty of that after the Gather, including the shards of a coloured lamp that had been shattered during some exuberant dancing. Petrilla was delighted; it had been a red one, a scarce colour. And she was lucky that it had been scavenged by a watchful urchin before the glasscrafters themselves gathered it up to re-use! There was plenty of it too – the enterprising infant had obtained most of the globe – and she was happy to pay an eighth for it. The child ran off delighted to show his parents his new wealth! Like most of her scavenging urchins he had a perfectly good family for whom his efforts were a welcome addition to a meagre income. That would buy his family two small loaves; and Petrilla could make enough beads for two necklaces if she made them of that colour alone; or she could twist it with plain glass or drizzle it in patterns over a finished plain bead too. It had wide possibilities!

The news that Piaz, upset, brought about some young thieves was disturbing.

"There's this fellow, Seffa by name, who gets hold of any orphaned children and tells them he'll take care of them, then he makes them steal and beg for him he don't hardly feed them and he beat then if they don't bring back enough" he said "Jek, what brung you marks to change, he's trying to save enough by keeping some back to go on the run because his sister Kella is twelve – the same age as our Syeira – and Seffa reckons she'll soon take more as a loving wench!"

Petrilla's eyes flashed in anger.

"This we must remedy!" she said "How many poor children are in the grips of this….man?"

Piaz counted on his fingers.

"Jek and Kella; Eleyni, she's ten; Sanar and Santar, they're twins, eight like Dessi; little Silse is but four, Seffa sends him out to beg with one of the girls because he cries all the time and it makes women sorry for him. He cries I reckon because Seffa beats him to make him. Then there's Chorlo, who's my age and he take his tone from Seffa and hits the little ones about. Reckon Pol's my age too, but he's quiet and kind of cowed. That's eight if you count Chorlo and Seffa's always after more. Seems one of his boys he beat to death for refusing point blank to have his arse sold to a buggerer."

Petrilla made a noise of disgust.

"You get Jek and Kella to come right over here; and any of the other kids they can get to come. Veekram and I will stand guard, and if this Seffa and his bully boy try anything on, we'll know what to do, right, Veekram?"

"Every time, lady" said Veekram, laconically.

Jek, at ten turns, thought Piaz was wonderful. He was obviously successful, being well fed and well dressed, and he swore he would kill anyone who tried to hurt his sisters. Jek and Kella, with a tearful little Silse in tow, slipped into Petrilla's cavern early next morning.

Petrilla had already sent a note to H'llon:

"Children in desperate need; bit of a situation. Bring T'rin and keep your fists ready."

The two dragonmen waited quietly in the cavern; and Kella screamed,

"It's a trick! They want me to lay with these men!"

"Sh, little idiot!" admonished Petrilla "You really think I can go against Seffa without bringing in muscle? They won't lay a finger on you – they have grown up women of their own, what would they want with a pipsqueak like you? No NORMAL man would!"

Jek looked at Piaz for confirmation; and the older boy grinned reassurance and nodded.

"They're good 'uns" said Piaz "My brother's in an apprenticeship they arranged, with a lady artist; he writes us most sevendays and they let him use a firelizard to send it."

"You read too?" Jek was astonished.

"You'll all be learning, laddie" said T'rin "We'll get you all safe, fed and well clad, any wounds seen to – Faranth's egg, what HAS been done to that babe?" for Petrilla had felt Silse flinch as she lifted him to cuddle and was undressing him.

Not only was his little body black and blue with bruises but brass pins pierced his flesh, festering horribly.

"Shells and Shards!" Petrilla was almost sick at the horrific sight "No wonder he cries constantly with such ever present pain! It'll take turns before he can overcome such cruelty! Piaz, the numbweed; I'll settle the pain before I even attempt to get these cruel pins out!"

Slathered in numbweed the child choked himself into quieter sobs; and abruptly fell asleep.

"I wondered why he cried half the night too" sai Kella "Lady, that Seffa's worse nor I thought!"

"I'm going to kill him" said H'llon through gritted teeth. "Piaz, my lad, be so good as to effect an introduction with this ornament of the caverns."

T'rin gave him a startled look.

"Weren't we going to let him attack and put him in the wrong?" he said.

"THAT was before I saw that babe" rumbled H'llon ominously "I'm going to arrest him for child maiming and than he's going to resist arrest."

"But people don't arrest no-one over us, mister" said Jek "No-one don't care about us; if we gets maimed it don't count, 'cos we're Holdless."

"It counts for me. And as he's Holdless too; so it won't count if I maim him back, then, will it?" said H'llon grimly. That he had to stoop slightly under the low roof emphasised his anger by increasing his appearance of menace.

T'rin rolled his eyes to the low roof in an exaggerated gesture and sighed gustily.

"Diplomacy, subtlety and doing it quietly, huh?" he asked of no-one in particular.

"I'd come and help with that maiming, but I have to see to this little scrap" said Petrilla, grimmly pulling out pins deftly with her working pliers and applying bulb-root vinegar to wounds as she squeezed out pus. "What an inhuman beast! You kill him for me, H'llon, don't be gentle about it, and make sure he knows why!"

"H'LLON?" gasped Jek.

"And T'rin" said Piaz.

"Trying to rescue kids without pissing off holderfolk too much" said T'rin "But at your service and about to risk my beautiful and highly trained hands on a creep because I doubt I'll be able to resist putting a fist in his face."

"He's a Harper" Piaz explained

"What about Chorlo?" asked Jek.

"Depends why he's a bully" said T'rin. "Knew a bully once. Buggered by his uncle. Turned himself around and then Impressed; friend of mine now. I like to give others a chance."

"Reckon he's dim; and scared o' Seffa too" said Jek "And stays in with him 'cos if he beats on us he ain't being beat on."

"Get them all back here when you've dealt with Seffa" said Petrilla "We can decide then. He's still only a kid, for shards sake, only fourteen!"

"Other kids be out stealing and begging" said Piaz "You want Syeira and me should collect them when I've shown the dragonmen where Seffa is, I can I help them?"

"Best you don't" said H'llon "Help us that is; we're protected. You're not. Are we going?" he flexed his fingers and cracked his knuckles suggestively.

Piaz led the way, Syeira bringing up the rear.

"And while they're gone, if you kids have been beaten, better strip off and let me see" said Petrilla "There's plenty of numbweed. Though there won't be soon I wager" she added half to herself.

The older children were glad of the numbweed on their own cruel bruises; and Petrilla ladled out the good fish chowder she had prepared against their coming.

T'rin returned alone with a terrified little girl firmly by the hand.

"Here's Eleyni; we had a brief bit of trouble, the creep had kept her back to sell her to a pervert who would have liked her even younger. We heard him say he could get another and described your Dessi, so we jumped them. Seffa's dead; H'llon got hasty. And I left him hauling the young snot of a fosterling up to the main Hold to make deposition to Lord Laudey. You know how H'llon is."

Petrilla grinned. She knew how H'llon was.

"He has his moments" she said.

"Yes, and a Bronze Rider carries more weight than a Blue in witnessing; he can drag me in if I'm needed as a Harper, but I wanted this poor little scrap brought safe; I've a foster sister no older than her. See, Eleyni? No-one's going to hurt you."

"I'll need you to strip, though if you've been beaten; I have numbweed" said Petrilla "No-one will touch you except me, to rub it in. Hop it, T'rin! Kella, you come and hold her hand."

"I'll hold her hand too" said Dessi "Don't cry, Eleyni! Lady Petrilla is real nice, it's like having a real mother what you hear about in stories!"

Tears sprang in Petrilla's eyes as she hugged Dessi wordlessly.

Piaz and Syeira arrived next with boy twins and an older lad, delicate of appearance and scared.

They had the numbweed treatment too; and Piaz brightened to see Eleyni.

"Oh good, someone found her" he said "Pol said he hadn't seen her. Right you lot, come and see the necessary. I don't want you showing me up by not knowing how to behave civilised when you need a pee or a crap."

Petrilla hid a smile.

Her fosterlings had come a long way, and were anxious to learn all the 'fancy' behaviour they knew her to be used to!

H'llon sauntered in, grimly satisfied, a sullen-looking youth in his wake.

"Sorted" he said. "Lord Laudey was shocked to be harbouring such a creep. Trouble is, all he can do is send the little turd home; where he'll only offend again. Still" he brightened "I got the name of his Hold out of Laudey; it's in Lemos. I'll get D'vind and Ch'sseri to keep an eye on the little menace. They can subvert the Hold's woodcrafters and he won't go for a pee without the Lemos logicators knowing. One of the journeymen there was promoted same time as Kyal and Elissa."

"Nice idea" grinned T'rin "Pity his father isn't from Igen or Laudey could have done something constructive as his overlord; but we can also see that Lord Asgenar hears of the incident. Or the Benden boys can."

H'llon nodded seriously.

"Lord Asgenar's a good man" he said "Not that Lord Laudey isn't,, but I know Asgenar personally through woodcrafting. It makes a difference. He's also used to using logicators. Now, Petrilla, this is Chorlo; he's best not going with the others for his sake as much as theirs because he needs a new start. I thought Veekram might train him up as an assistant; he can learn decent behaviour by example" he turned to the boy. "If you let me down, I'll be here in two shakes to know the reason why!" he barked in the voice e had learned when acting as weyrlingsecond for R'gar.

Chorlo nodded, meekly enough.

H'lon drummed with his fingers,

_**DDDD**boy terrified of dragons. Suggestion to take him to weyr made him pass out. Beaten by Seffa half his life; give chance**DDDD**_

Petrilla drummed back,

_**DDDD**If he leaves my kids alone will be happy to, if not, they come first**DDDDD**_

_**DDDD**understood**DDDD**_

Chorlo's eyes grew round as Petrilla filled a bowl of chowder and handed him bread.

"All for me?" he asked in the same tone the little ones had asked the same question.

Petrilla waved him to sit at the table.

"All for you. You're in need as much as the others, aren't you, you poor little boy?" she added.

Chorlo looked at her, his expression hungry for more than food; then a shutter dropped.

Petrilla nodded to herself.

She would get through to him.

Veekram might not actually be the best role model for the boy; he had a tendency to brood on his wrongs and came close to whiney at times. However good employment and security had made the man more satisfied and less sharp tongued; and although he was a professional bodyguard he was not violent by nature. Maybe because he was a professional bodyguard; it was a foolish man who acted violently without thinking, and detrimental to his client in most cases. And Veekram too took his tone from her.

Petrilla suspected that Veekram was half in love with her; for her kindness to him as much as anything else in a world where few showed kindness; and the teaching him some of the skills his father should have taught him, had not the silly fool decided a cripple could not learn. Or was too overcome by guilt at causing the crippling to be able to contemplate finding a way round it, for most people seemed to react to unpleasant realities by doing their best to ignore them.

Other people besides herself had the most thoroughly inadequate fathers, Petrilla decided; it was merely that HER father had been in a position to damage more people than just his offspring for having more power than most fathers. But then with stupid women like Veekram's mother to encourage them – and even Piaz' mother for not insisting her husband lose his jealous streak – it was scarce any wonder some men were worse inadequates than they need be. Women had a lot of influence; and should use that responsibly!

Which brought her back to Veekram's possible infatuation. The best thing to do there was to give him nothing that could be construed as encouragement; she was careful to treat him with friendly distance, as a favoured retainer. He was not her type. It was not the disability or the eyepatch; it was just his personality. Veekram was a leaner; and he had no capacity for contentment, or rather, of acceptance and making the best of it.

Still, at least Veekram had stopped – mostly – grumbling about being deprived of his rights, and at least he had the education to know what his rights should have been, even if he was hazier about the concomitant responsibilities. Petrilla had been teaching Piaz and Syeira their rights and duties; and hoped it was duly sinking in to Veekram too! If Chorlo had to learn too, it would be good revision.

The younger ones of the rescued children, after eating, had joined Silse happily in slumber. Full bellies and freedom from pain meant they might have the chance to catch up on the sleep their young bodies needed. Even Kella was curled up on a blanket on the floor, ostensibly to comfort Silse if he woke, and actually dropping off herself, big girl of twelve though she was!

"Pol? Chorlo? Do you want to kip down for a while?" asked Petrilla. "Chorlo, you're staying and I've no duties for you today while you settle in; Pol you're to go with the dragonmen with the others; H'llon and T'rin will let them sleep it out."

"Silse better stay too" said T'rin "I don't want to take all those open wounds _Between_."

Petrilla nodded.

"What open wounds?" asked Chorlo "He got pins in him?"

Petrilla looked sharply at him.

"What do you know about pins?"

Chorlo shrugged.

"Seffa found it make you cry and get more marks for looking pathetic" he said "It only work when you're young enough to be sweet-looking. Then when you ain't sweet no more he let you pull 'em out, them what'll come."

"He did it to you? You have pins still in your flesh?"

He shrugged.

"Grown over…they don't hurt no more. What I couldn't get out or hurt too much to pull I bent 'em into rings so the end don't prick."

Petrilla put her arms around him.

"G'wan" he growled, shrugging free.

"Men cry too" said H'llon "There wasn't a dry eye in any weyr on Pern when Fanna died. We got over it as well as we did because at High Reaches we had a hatching right on its heels. Real men can cry. Oh yes, Petrilla – sorry, forgot in all this – M'iandra Impressed!"

Petrilla grinned, overjoyed for her sister, before returning her thoughts to young Chorlo.

H'llon's words had sunk in; if a dragonman could admit to crying maybe it was all right!

It was a shame the boy feared dragons so; H'llon was very good with him, and yet so obviously tough that Chorlo could not sneer at him for a sissy!

Well, it was her job to make something of the boy; and she would try her best to follow up H'llon's good start.

Chorlo did choose to lie down, whether to sleep, weep or ponder Petrilla did not know and nor did she pry.

She said to Piaz,

"I'll need your help to befriend him and show him that there's more to life than choosing if you're a user or a victim. I think that's all he understands right now. I don't agree with Jek's assessment that he's dim; just dulled by ill treatment."

Piaz nodded dubiously.

"I'll do my best, Mother Petrilla" he said "Like you say, perhaps he'll talk to me. You couldn't talk to that Pol; he's such a clod."

Petrilla had to agree.

Sorry as she was for the boy, he seemed scarcely capable of putting two thoughts together and stared with slack-jawed incomprehension at any question about his preferences! That too might be the result of turns of abuse; and he might recover; but there again he might not. Indeed, Petrilla strongly suspected that he had few wits to re-gather, though at least that argued for a lack of imagination that would enable him to put his experiences behind him!

And he would be in the weyr childhold and not, thank the first egg, her responsibility!

When the children awoke, and found to their amazement that they were to eat twice in one day, Petrilla dressed them in such garb as she has hastily got from the stalls selling secondhand clothing – run by Gruesome Gresham – and sent all but Silse and Chorlo with the dragonmen.

Silse was still asleep; and it would be easier for him to part that way.


	18. Chapter 18

_A/N :Dragonmage A Pern Addict thanks for the comment! Yes the hissy fit IS written [still in Longhand] and is going to form part of HR 8-9 More Chronicles of High Reaches so will be coming in a few books time; I'm busy transcribing and trying to keep to approximate time line order. Chronicles [all the Chronicles] are a filling in of incidents that may be alluded to in passing elsewhere or that didn't quite fit a particular story but were things I was holding in my head as background. I do keep an extensive dragondex [and by the way if anyone has any idea how to update forum topics I know that many of the people from Petrilla do NOT appear in the dragondex posted on my forum nor will many future people; sorry! I may have to do a secondary posting of period 8 onward if I can't figure out how to edit.] and I do enjoy juggling a large cast... _

**Chapter 18**

Silse started to whimper in his sleep, and Petrilla refreshed the numbweed and checked his wounds. He settled into a deeper sleep again.

Petrilla reflected that the child would probably sleep the sun round; and indeed he did, waking suddenly next day and crying for Kella.

Petrilla knelt down beside him.

"When you're better you may go with Kella and be fostered properly" she said "But you have to stay with me and get well. Kella's safe; they've all gone to be fed and clothed and loved properly, except Chorlo because the bad man hurt him the same way he hurt you; and threatened bad things if he told, right, Chorlo?"

"Yeah" said Chorlo. "It gets better, kid; and she's got 'em all outta you. Look!" he pulled up his tattered vest to show two rings on his belly "They wouldn't come out of me."

"Oooh, is that why you're so bad tempered Chorlo, 'cos it hurt you bad too?" asked the infant.

"Y-yeah, something like that" Chorlo's voice quavered.

What kindness from an adult could not quite do, the sympathetic questions of a little mite in suffering managed.

Chorlo was crying.

Petrilla put an arm around each of them.

"We can help Chorlo not to hurt too" said Petrilla "And then he won't be cross at all. And I expect he's sorry he's been cross and would like you to be his brave little brother. How about that?"

"I'll take care of the kid, I won't let no-one else hurt him, not never!" said Chorlo fiercely "Cor, I wish you'd been around after me ma died lady!"

"So do I, Chorlo; but you're a big strong lad, you'll one day be a big strong man to help others that get into the grips of the likes of Seffa" she said "You can help me and the dragonmen and Veekram and Piaz stopping it happening to others."

Silse became Chorlo's little shadow, once he knew the bigger boy had been through what he had suffered. And Petrilla watched in wonder at the gentleness the big bully showed the child.

He was still truculent with Piaz, Syeira and Dessi; but it was a good start!

Two days later the first curtain jingled; for with children to protect, Petrilla had considered it prudent to install a second curtain. Veekram waited in Petrilla's 'office' between the curtains to deal with minor business; and she heard him say,

"No further, fellow; you do NOT disturb My Lady!"

"I'm a dragonrider. Let me pass."

"I don't care if you're F'lar of Benden, boy, you wait there like anyone else. If you go frightening the children, Lady Petrilla will give you what for!"

Petrilla stode out.

"And what can I do for you, Brown Rider that makes you so peremptory?" she said, taking in the knots, the golden yellow with brown identifying his dragon colour, out of Igen Weyr. He was no older than Piaz and Chorlo.

"Is it true what they say, that your jolly boys killed Seffa?"

"Essentially, I suppose. What business is it of Igen Weyr?"

"None…it's personal between me and Seffa!"

Chorlo came out in response to the lad's voice.

"Janton?" he said.

"J'ton" corrected the Brown Rider. "Chorlo?"

"Yes, it's me" said Chorlo "First egg, you DID get away to the weyr then!" he turned to Petrilla "Lady, Janton – as he was then – was one of Seffa's boys, he ran away nearly three turns ago."

"And I came back as soon as I could go _Between_ to take my revenge and you, lady, got there first. Why? You want to run the kids yourself? Or do you run a child loving house here?"

"Watch your tongue!" barked Veekram, made bold by association with the High Reaches Riders!

"There are such things?" Petrilla was too horrified by the concept to take offence.

J'ton shrugged.

"It wouldn't surprise me" he said bitterly "I swore that if my arse was to be used it would only be with the love of a dragon to make it bearable….and Coroseth is Brown so I don't have to worry."

"You ask why; come inside" said Petrilla "And do it gently, don't frighten the smaller ones."

She led him in where Silse was hovering by the inner bead curtain, uncertain whether to join Chorlo.

"Show the dragonman your wounds, Silse, my poppet, and tell him what made them" she said, kneeling to put an arm round the mite.

Silse pulled up his shirt.

"Vey're healing now" he said "'Cos Lady P'tilla tooked out ve pins so I doesn't has to cwy now."

J'ton stared in horror.

"He – Seffa – did THAT?"

"Mine are still embedded" said Chorlo "When he has right little ones making them cry earns marks begging."

"My, er, jolly boys – two dragonmen I know – lost their tempers when they saw the child's wounds. You don't see the festering pus I cleaned out" said Petrilla. "I do appreciate your desire for revenge, J'ton, believe me; and had we known, I'm sure H'llon and T'rin would have collected you for the trip. As it was they were just in time to stop an eight turn old babe being sold to a pervert; and another girl was also in fear of being made a loving wench."

"I'd forgotten about him; even if I had known the dragonmen were coming, which I didn't" said Chorlo.

"Well…. I guess I can see why you did it" said J'ton "I just feel kind of cheated."

"Pop over to High Reaches Weyr and ask for H'llon" said Petrilla laconically "I dare say he'll help you find others of the same stamp to take it out on instead. It might not be as good, but I wager it'll be some satisfaction. We point H'llon at most nasty types because he's built like a skybroom tree. And you can keep in touch with us here too if you like; our task is to rescue children like these, like you were."

"You're very cavalier with dragonfolk" said J'ton.

"It's not that I don't respect what you do; because I do" said Petrilla, hastily. H'llon had mentioned that other weyrs could be formal and touchy, and though there had been precious little of that from D'vind and Ch'sseri, there own comments showed they followed strict protocols in their own weyr! "I just know a number of weyrfolk; two of my sisters are Impressed."

His eyes widened.

"Two Queenriders in one family?"

"Oh no, Green Riders; they preferred to stand for Greens and be dragonriders than worry about being candidates for Gold eggs" disclaimed Petrilla "It's doing the job that matters, not the colour."

"It's true about High Reaches?"

Petrilla laughed.

"If it's a rumour about eccentricity, it's probably true" she said cheerfully "High Reaches does its own thing; the dragons are happy, so they're happy."

J'ton grinned.

"I guess that sounds good" he said "I believe I will go and see H'llon….uh, what colour?"

"Bronze" said Petrilla "But don't worry; I don't think they can even spell the word 'formality' at High Reaches. He's a good man; he fosters my two younger sisters that are at the weyr, though with I'linne Impressed she scarcely needs to be fostered I guess."

"They contract girls too?" J'ton blinked "That'd addle a few yolks some places I bet! I like it; ain't fair on girls not to give 'em an honorific."

"That's what High Reaches thought too" said Petrilla.

J'ton came back several days later, dressed more suitably for wandering about Holdless caverns and not displaying his knots obviously.

He grinned.

"I told G'narish, our Weyrleader, all about it" he said "I thought perhaps I ought to. He was fantastic; and he asked your Rider friends and their Weyrleader to come and explain all about rescuing children; and T'bor – he's nice, isn't he? – said he didn't see it as treading on High Reaches toes if other weyrs took a hand, so G'narish is going to visit High Reaches and see how they've done it, and if you're agreeable I'm to be your liaison with Igen Weyr."

Petrilla wondered how he had managed all that on one breath. Young lungs perhaps!

"Agreeable? Most certainly! She said "I'd be delighted. I was warned that a lot of weyrs aren't so, er, open as High Reaches and might not be sympathetic, being afraid of being accused of interfering in autonomy."

J'ton snorted.

"Whose autonomy are they interfering with I'd like to know?" he said "Nobody cares – nobody else – about the Holdless. And I can use the bad experience of my childhood here to be a dragonman in all things and protect ALL the people in any way I can, like H'llon says is implied in our duty oath!" his eyes glowed with fervour.

Petrilla hoped, equally fervently, that G'narish would keep him on a relatively short leash, especially around some of the more conservative dragonmen!

"So are you going to put girls to Greens too at Igen?" she teased gently.

He looked much struck.

"I don't know. It came up in conversation – T'bor was explaining the different formation High Reaches fly – but G'narish never mentioned it. I guess it's none of my business what he decides anyway; I'm barely blooded, after all, and that's a matter for the Weyrleader to decide. I guess he'll look at how it works when he visits High Reaches."

"That would indeed be the act of a sensible man, to defer judgement until he has seen how something works" said Petrilla diplomatically.

"Oh, G'narish is most awfully sensible! He doesn't let himself get bamboozled by tradition just because it IS tradition; and some traditions aren't actually that old really, just got embedded as custom! He looks at facts before he makes up his mind. He was the first Weyrleader to speak up against the Oldtimers – first decent Oldtimer Weyrleader I mean of course" he added.

"You'll want to re-acquaint yourself a little with the lifestyle then, if you are to be our liaison; and I can tell you a lot about types of Holdless that may not have struck you from the perspective of a child wrapped up in the misery of an intolerable situation" said Petrilla tactfully. The tact was more for a lad old enough to acquire pomposity more than for the dragonrider!

J'ton looked half offended for a moment; then nodded.

"I guess I did only see it from one angle" he conceded.

"I act as a fence; I don't ask where things come from. I've smithcraft training and I make jewellery. I get contacts from thieves, tinkers, traders and scavengers. I also change marks; which gets me pickpockets, gamblers and some loving wenches as clients. What are you planning to do when I move on?"

He looked horrified.

"You're not going soon are you?"

"I planned to do the turn round to cover most seasonal travellers" she said "So all things being equal I'm here until spring next turn."

He looked relieved.

"That gives us time to pick a replacement then….no, I don't mean a replacement…." He flushed, looking embarrassed.

She shrugged.

"It's as good a word as any. I'd like to have someone in place to get to know the clients….you never know, Veekram here might like the job."

"I stay with you, lady" said Veekram "And come with you to the weyr. I'll not leave you."

Petrilla swallowed back a sigh at his almost possessive tone, and smiled at J'ton.

"Then perhaps you've a candidate who's gone over age but wants to serve the weyr and is considered trustworthy; or a dragonless man who wants a purpose to fight the emptiness, to be part of but separate from the weyr; a disappointed Queen Egg candidate who nearly has it, waiting for another clutch and wants to be useful in the meantime…"

"USEFUL? Queen egg candidates?" J'ton made a rude noise. "Our Larissa's not bad, but she is the one who Impressed, after all, and she's seabred and knows how many beans make five. there wasn't ANY competition for her for Crysoreth, I can tell you!"

"What, none of them?" Petrilla was shocked.

"Huh, even the ones that aren't so fancy, I don't reckon any of them could manage" said J'ton. "Feeble ain't in it!"

"Perhaps we breed hardier women in the High Reaches…or maybe you're just unlucky. Or maybe" she added dryly "The customs around here are progressive enough that spirited women get to live their own lives and don't feel that the weyr is their only escape."

"I dunno" said J'ton. "I only know of four types of women: holdless ones, lower cavern women, weyrwomen and candidates."

"Well, there are variations within those groups" said Petrilla "But I'm sure G'narish will find someone good."

"Your idea of a – a – someone without - without a dragon is good" J'ton found it hard to even speak of the concept "They could be protected by the weyr but not have to see dragons."

Petrilla nodded.

"And I guess G'narish would arrange a firelizard for messages so that would be part of the emptiness helped, to a tiny extent" she said.

He swallowed.

"I suppose. I think… I think it works better if you have one to start off with though."

Petrilla nodded.

"Yes, I can see that….otherwise it's a bit like people telling a woman who has miscarried that she can always have another baby to replace it."

"Oh, do women have any feelings for babies before they're born then?"

"Of course they do, you insensitive little squab! Feeling new life within you binds you to it almost as closely as Impression – certainly, I reckon, as Impressing one of these" she stroked Griss.

"Oh!" he said "I didn't know! Have you children of your own then?"

She shook her head.

"I got pregnant when I was younger…I used herbs because I didn't think I could properly care for a baby. It still…it's still a hurt I never realised would happen; I think it makes me a little more sensitive to the greater loss of a dragonless man than many" she said.

"I guess men just can't understand that particular problem" said J'ton with heartfelt thankfulness, trying not to even imagine being without his beloved Coroseth!

Silse continued to recover; and when not numbed and stupefied by pain proved a bright and inquisitive child.

Petrilla, reminded of the abortifacient she had taken those turns ago, hugged him to her when he came to her for caresses, reflecting that he was the same age as the child she had aborted would have been. And she had no choice; at seventeen turns old, she would not have been able to care for a child, even with old Grissom's help. She met Piaz' eyes over Silse's head and read grave understanding in them; for he had heard her conversation with J'ton of course.

Piaz was such a good boy.

"If you're going to send him on to the weyr, Mother Petrilla, best do it before you get too attached to him" he said "It's different for us sending Tawn; he's older and he'll always be our brother. But if Silse goes, he'll be found a foster mother."

Petrilla nodded, and lifted Silse onto her lap.

"Silse, do you want to go and be with Kella and the others or do you want to stay here with us?" she asked gravely.

He put a finger in his mouth; and she gently removed it. He was too old for that.

Chorlo was listening too.

"If he goes" he said, white faced and shaking "I'll go with him and look after him."

"You're a brave man, Chorlo" said Petrilla, softly.

"How can you say so? I'm a coward about dragons!"

"Only a truly brave man does something that he fears for the sake of others. You're a brave man."

"Do I dot to go?" said Silse.

"No, sweeting, you don't have to. But you can if you like. You wanted to be with Kella at first, so I give you the choice."

Silse frowned, fluffy baby brows coming together in thought.

"I wants to be wiv you, muvver" he said.

It would be hard to say whether it was Petrilla or Chorlo who was the most relieved!

Silse prattled on; somewhere in his young mind the other children were linked to things being bad, whereas everything nice had come for Petrilla.

"Well, I appear to have four sons and two daughters!" she laughed.

Piaz tried to count.

"Four?

"You and Tawn first; then Silse and Chorlo. Chorlo promised to be a brother to Silse, so if the babe want me to be his mother, so too is his brother my son and your brother also."

"Who's Tawn?" aske Chorlo.

"Piaz' and the girls' little brother; he's a talented artist. He's gone to learn to draw properly as an apprentice in the weyr, the same weyr the other children went to" Petrilla explained.

"Are we brothers?" asked Chorlo, abruptly of Piaz.

"If you'll be a brother to my sisters and Tawn like you are to Silse" said Piaz.

"I guess that's a deal" said Chorlo. "I never had no siblings; mother reckoned I was a mistake. She couldn't get the herbs or I'd not have been born neither, her being a loving wench. HE ran her."

That made a lot of sense now.

Petrilla said,

"We should have a feast to celebrate being a family; you boys take three marks and buy frivolous food – cakes and such!"

It was, after all, a time for rejoicing!


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

The big man had a forlorn, almost vacant look in his eyes, his big hands hanging loosely by his sides.

"Lady Petrilla?" he asked.

"That's me" she was out in her 'office' for the daily business at the hour the thieves had learned she was accustomed to strike deals. "What can I do for you?"

"G'narish sent me" he said.

Her eyes widened.

It was only a few sevendays on; the wet season was not even yet started, though spoken of as imminent.

"To work with me with a view to taking on the business?"

He nodded.

"I'm Felerel…. I used to be F'rel until…until…." He broke down in sobs.

Petrilla put an arm around him and drew him inside, dipping a hot mug of klah and thrusting it into his hands. He gulped it, hardly noticing its heat.

"I don't need to know anything it hurts to talk about" she assured him.

He gulped hard.

"Thanks Lady….G'narish said you'd help me find things to think about and I could still serve even if I can't be a 'we' fighting Thread."

"You can" she said. "And help future generations. Tell me, Felerel, how do you feel about a firelizard?"

"I told him, I don't know yet. I suppose if I can do duty better with one…. I guess I should try."

"There's no hurry. Griss can fly messages for the time being" said Petrilla "Do you know anything about smithcrafting?"

He shook his head.

"I do some lapidary, I learned it as a hobby in…in…" he could not say 'the weyr' but Petrilla nodded understanding.

"That's pretty useful to the trade I do here….any craft?"

Again he shook his head.

"Grew up in….weyrbred. didn't take an apprenticeship because….."

"You Impressed young?"

He nodded, tears rolling out of his eyes, splashing unheeded in the empty klah mug.

"I'll teach you metalworking to enhance your lapidary; and you can improve my stone cutting skills" she said "That'll keep your mind deeply occupied while we all get to know each other, there'll be a need for great concentration."

He nodded.

"Start now" he said.

It was halfway between a request and a command.

Petrilla nodded to Piaz.

"You're in charge out there."

Piaz nodded eagerly, thrilled with the responsibility, and a little nervous too!

"We need to fire up the forge first" Petrilla told him "As yet I have plenty of fuel; but if you'll follow me I'll show you the best places to gather wood. It's not too hot yet."

The children were half sympathetic, half nervous of Felerel; Chorlo went out of his way to be closest to the dragonless man. He explained to Petrilla,

"He hates the sight of dragons because of what losing his did; and I'm scared of them. It's a sort of bond and we can avoid seeing them together. I can sort of feel when they're around so I can turn him away and get him in quick."

Petrilla blinked.

People who felt dragons usually Impressed, it was said; not ran from them. Perhaps feeling dragons was as scary as having a big Bronze breathing down your neck might be, or feel as if one was!

Felerel was not particularly communicative; but so long as he learned the business and could talk to clients that was no problem. That he would just have to work on. His manner to the clients was good, courteous enough but plainly ready to become belligerent if they gave him cause. Two tough men in her train gave the hardest of Holdless men to pause before trying to cheat Petrilla, even the pair of tinker brothers who thought that a woman fence would be easy pickings. Veekram and Felerel had both scowled at the tinkers, whose studied insolence subsided.

Petrilla was pleased and told Felerel that he learned fast.

Veekram was less pleased.

He took to casting lowering looks at Felerel and acting quite jealously.

Petrilla hoped it would pass; she treated both men the same, after all.

The matter came to a head when Petrilla was woken by Chorlo shaking her, Piaz at his side.

"Lady, Veekram is talking about dragons to Felerel" he said.

"I told him to stop, mother Petrilla but he told me to shut up and go back to sleep" said Piaz, upset.

Petrilla got up, pulling on a robe quickly.

Veekram was describing in great detail the dragon that wheeled overhead last time he had been on a hunt with Petrilla. Felerel was curled up in the foetal position, arms wrapped about his head, sobbing.

"Veekram" said Petrilla, softly. .

The man broke off.

"L-lady?"

"I don't like bullies. You should know that by now. You can go and sleep the rest of the night in the common cavern while I decide whether or not to terminate your employment." Her voice was as cold as _Between_ for all its silky softness. Had she but known it she sounded very much like her father when he was in an icy rage.

Veekram looked horrified in the light of the glows she carried.

"But….Lady…he's so presumptuous….I just wanted to bring him down a peg or two!"

"Presumptuous? If anyone is presumptuous it is you! Felerel has never spoken a word out of place. He has shown me utmost respect; though if any had a RIGHT to be arrogant it is he, who has given EVERYTHING in the service of Pern! You are an infatuated fool to misinterpret anything so. And if he did ever proposition me, it would be for ME to correct him for presumption if I disliked his manner. I have trusted you; and respected you enough to say nothing to disparage your apparent feelings towards me, even as I have done nothing to encourage any hope in you that they were reciprocated. You are now going the right way about killing any affection I have felt for you. Now get out and cool your heels and your cruel head. You may return in the morning and we will discuss your future in my organisation."

Veekram pulled on trews and shirt and stumbled blindly out, sobbing almost as loudly as Felerel.

"He's had it coming a-whiles" said Piaz "Always making like he owned you and letting clients know he sleeps with you. Reckon if he does, that's disrespecting you."

Petrilla looked startled.

"HAS he now!" she said grimly. "That I did not know; he is a liar as well as a bully, and a boastful one at that. I shall have to think seriously about that; I didn't say anything to him about mooning after me because I should think that unrequited love would hurt rather badly. But that is the outside of enough, for I've given him no encouragement at all, nor acted familiarly to Felerel – as though it was anyone's business if I had" she added angrily. She had sat down beside the dragonless man and was rocking him the way she rocked Silse in one of his not infrequent nightmares.

Silse had felt brave enough to sleep with the other boys for the last few nights; and all this woke him up.

He padded over.

"Has Felerel had a bad dream, muvver?" he asked.

"Something like that" said Petrilla. She had explained to the child about Felerel's dragon being dead like Silse's real mother, but he could feel where his dragon wasn't inside his head and it hurt in his thoughts like a wound on the body.

Silse snuggled up to Felerel and patted him gently.

"We is here, Felerel" he said "We will look after you."

Grief-darkened forlorn eyes opened; the child could not understand, but Felerel managed to summon enough of himself to appreciate the innocent, loving concern.

"Thanks kid" he managed.

"Put klah on for us all, one of you boys" said Petrilla "We may as well have a mug now we're all awake."

Piaz leaped up. Chorlo nodded and sat down with Felerel.

"He was a beast" he said "And a dishonest one for pretending to be loyal an' all. We shan't let him do it again even if m-mother Petrilla lets him back" he half glanced at her to see if she minded, it being the first time he had called her mother.

"And I'm not sure I SHALL let him back" said Petrilla smiling at Chorlo and letting her gladness show that he accepted her. "Veekram has learned NOTHING with me so far."

"He'll be bitter if you let him go" said Chorlo.

"And he's not already good at that? He was orphaned at twelve; he was only Holdless because of his stupid mother and her unthinking loyalty to his father. The Smithcraft never meant the victim of an accident to be punished with the perpetrator, I'm sure! Veekram could surely have gone to the Smithcrafters and demanded care from them as of Right when he first lost his parents but he preferred to wallow in self pity. And I'm beginning to lose my patience with him."

"He's a man who'd pick up a mark in the mud and mourn that it wasn't two" said Piaz, handing about klah "Don't worry, mother Petrilla, if he tries to poison people against you, heh, they all know what he's like back at Bridge and here too, 'cos he's been here before. Reckon the bridge people were glad you took him away."

Petrilla shrugged.

"I reckoned I could give him enough self confidence not to need self pity" she said "I guess I was wrong there. The chip on his shoulder is too big to erode simply with decent treatment. Well, I'll pay him off well and ask H'llon to write a warrant of trustworthiness, for he is not truly dishonest, Chorlo, he has been loyal to ME – as he sees it. It'll still be late evening High Reaches time; I'll write for that now. He's a good bodyguard."

"Just a lousy person" growled Piaz.

"Selfish and self absorbed rather" said Petrilla. "Relying on being pitied for his disability. And too wrapped up in the idea that because HE fancies me that so does every other man; and concerned – obsessed even – that they might get what he's not."

Felerel twisted round. His face was tear-streaked and contorted with pain; but he spoke steadily enough.

"Any man that sees you is stirred I should think, Lady, unless it is men he prefers" he said, taking his mug of klah from Piaz "But most are more civilised about it."

Petrilla smiled gravely.

"I thank you for the compliment, Felerel" she said "I'm only sorry that his lack of civilisation gave you such pain."

"Not your fault, lady"

"He was in my employ. I should have kept close watch on him. I never dreamed he could be so lost to honour."

"Don't see how you could. Thanks for taking my part; I gather he's been with you a while. I need to know; is it pity? Or because G'narish sent me?"

"Neither. It's because what he did was wrong" said Petrilla "Pity doesn't enter into it; I feel compassion for your loss. The only one I PITY is that poor silly creature Veekram. And believe me, if G'narish sent someone I didn't like I'd ask him to send another."

He nodded.

"Fair enough" he said.

Griss had scarcely returned after taking the message to H'llon when the Weyrwoodcrafter's whole fair arrived, chirping importantly and carrying a large document between them. It was a document of warranty, stating that Veekram, description appended, had proved a trustworthy and honourable escort and bodyguard to a woman of the weyr.

The paper was beautifully embossed with the pattern of a wingleader's knots and duly signed 'H'llon, Bronze Rider wingleader'

"He can't complain about that" said Petrilla.

Piaz scowled.

"Betcha he will" he said.

"Well….perhaps I'll not take you up on that after all" Petrilla sighed. "He ought NOT to find anything to complain of in that."

Veekram was almost fawning on Petrilla when he came to her ridiculously early in the morning, apologising humbly to her. Petrilla found it embarrassing and faintly nauseating.

"Veekram, I'm told you let clients think you share my bedroll" she said.

"That lying kid! You don't trust his word over mine, surely? I who am devoted to your interests?" he said angrily "He's only a water tinker!"

He faltered as he saw the cold fury cross Petrilla's face and knew his jealousy had driven him to say the wrong thing.

"How interesting" said Petrilla "That you leap immediately to the conclusion of who knew to tell me" said Petrilla icily. "And your miscalling of that child – young man – has completely made up my mind. I had been considering giving you a second chance providing you apologised to Felerel too. I will pay you to the end of the month; and I have here a signed warranty of your honesty and trustworthiness as a bodyguard that I asked H'llon to send, that I hoped I might not need. But you do not learn! Enough is enough; collect your clothes, your bedroll and take your pay and go. I'm sorry; you can be very likeable and you've been very loyal. But until you can learn to stand aside from an unfounded jealousy and understand what a terrible blasphemous thing it is to torture a man who has given everything including his sanity to defend the rest of us, I don't even want to see you. If you ever learn, either come back here to apologise to Felerel or make your way to High Reaches Weyr. I've been very happy with your WORK" she emphasised the word and held out a hand.

He stared at it and would not take it.

"Only dragonmen you like in your bed, huh?" he said.

She slapped him, hard.

"If that were any of my employee's business, that's a no" she said, coolly "As well you know; unless you have conveniently forgotten than the only lover I have taken while you have been in my service has been Chayney. And that, in common with any part of my private life, is none of your business. Get packed and get out; if we can't part amicably it is better to part quickly."

Veekram packed his roll.

Piaz watched him closely.

"I don't steal – I'm not a filthy tinker brat!" said Veekram.

"You are the filthy one, one who attacks weyrfolk" said Piaz scornfully "You are nothing. No, I don't think you'd steal; but I want to make sure you don't leave anything nasty for any of the rest of us to find, apart from the memory of you bad manners" said Piaz.

Veekram left in high dudgeon; and Petrilla sighed deeply.

You couldn't win them all.

And she had worked hard to try, the harder because she did not much like Veekram on a personal level.

It was a trifle depressing really; and Petrilla felt really low for several days.

Then the rumours started that the Istan dragonriders were looking more sprightly; their Golden Queen was said to be brighter, ready to rise in a day or so!

The children and Felerel were out gathering wood for the forge when Chorlo pushed Felerel in through the back door.

"Got back in time" he gasped breathlessly.

"What?" Petrilla asked.

"The lust….. I can feel them coming!" said Chorlo, his eyes wild. Petrilla laid a soothing hand on his arm.

"You know, I could ask H'llon and T'rin if Melth and Renpeth would speak to you; it might not be as scary as just feeling" she said.

Chorlo looked wary.

"Dunno about that" he said "But Fel's all right anyway, we didn't see none."

"Ista needs a good flight" said Felerel, the muscles of his jaw rippling as he fought to be objective.

The others were later back.

"I told Piaz to show Silse; no reason the kid should pick up my daft fears" said Chorlo.

"Now that's more mature than many a full adult" said Petrilla with approval, hugging the boy.

The others burst in.

"We went to the top of the cliffs, the guards let us! Do you suppose it was Caylith? I hope Barnath caught her!" said Piaz.

"Agreed; G'dened is his father's son with a more modern outlook yet" said Petrilla. "We'll soon find out."

Suddenly the eerie note of the keening of the dragon from the watchheights reverberated through the cavern.

Felerel clapped his hands to his ears, screaming, and fell to the floor. Syeira and Dessi clung to each other and Piaz, Silse to Chorlo, who knelt beside Felerel.

"There – there were a couple of Bronzes having trouble keeping up – they both looked almost grey with strain" faltered Piaz "It – it's more likely to be them than a rival Queen isn't it?"

"I surely hope so" said Petrilla "What can their Riders be thinking of, letting them try for a young strong Queen if they're old or ill? Surely a Green flight would be more sensible!"

"I could go see if J'tar knows – he rides Selenth, the watchdragon" said Piaz.

Petrilla hid a smile despite the shock.

Piaz had obviously made an effort to meet the watchpair.

"Go on then" she said "Take him klah and a sweet cake; he'll be in shock."

Piaz nodded and filled mug quickly from the kettle.

Petrilla had her hands full comforting Felerel, Silse needing Chorlo's attention.

"Two old ones?" he managed "FOOLS! They deserve to be dragonless to deliberately risk….no-one deserves to be dragonless…..poor, poor bastards!" he started sobbing, and Petrilla held him until the worst of the storm subsided.

Piaz came back looking grave; but not heartbroken.

"It was an open flight" he said "T'kul and B'zon came up from Southern; it was too much for T'kul's Salth. T'kul went crazy – crazier I should say – and duelled F'lar. He's dead – T'kul I mean. Ranilth's exhausted and they poured Benden Red and fellis into B'zon. The Masterharper has had a seizure and Barnath caught Caylith."

"One good thing in a chapter of horrid accidents then" said Petrilla, torn between horror, dismay and delight. "Run, Piaz, and find a betting marksman, say you saw the mating flight and that I bid you put a hundred on Barnath."

Piaz face lit up and he grinned.

"Nice!" he said, taking the high denomination mark and running. He caught on quickly!

"But we know who caught Caylith, why do we bet on it?" asked Syeira.

"WE know; but the marksman doesn't yet. It's because Piaz made friends with J'tar. It's dishonest; but then, we ARE thieves!" explained Petrilla!


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

The returns on the bet were not large, at least by proportion. Barnath had been the favourite at evens, but another hundrend marks was not to be despised.

It was enough to feed and clothe a child for a turn in comfort; or clothe and feed three children with supplementary hunting and gardening and fishing. Petrilla explained this to the children; they understood the value of marks on a daily basis, but it was time they learned to calculate ahead.

Felerel she paid an eighth daily while he was learning the business, plus food and clothing. With her hunting skills to supplement the easy diet of shellfish and fish – Piaz knew how to construct a fish trap – and the vegetables starting to mature in her garden, they ate well.

"Better than the Lord Holder I bet" said Chorlo, with a contented sigh as he mopped the last of his rich wherry stew from his bowl with a chunk of bread, the only food Petrilla had to buy.

Petrilla laughed.

"He gets roasts more often for having the bigger oven and more fuel" she said "Best I can do on that score is kebabbing meat over the fire or steaming it in its own juices inside mud in the embers."

"Reckon you'm the best cook on Pern, our mother" said Chorlo happily.

"Why thank you! It's not true; but I think I do a fair job with the resources to hand!" said Petrilla, pleased.

The onslaught of the rainy season was a shock to Petrilla.

It was still hot; but the rains were hard and stinging, the hard-dried muds of the river with their braided streams that did not even fill right up at high tide were suddenly a wide, wild river yellow with silt.

It was also alive with fish.

Fish ate Thread; and Petrilla was one of the first out after Thread fell to catch the roiling mass of fish before they finished their feeding frenzy. She had procured barrels and salt; and taught the children and Felerel how to salt fish down, another legacy of her training as a Ranking girl.

"We do this for winter feed in High Reaches so there's fish all turn round" she said.

"There's no real winter here, you can fish any time" objected Chorlo.

"And if something stops the fish coming? Or there's a famine? Or I'm ill and can't hunt to add to the fishing you older ones can do?" she said.

Piaz looked panicked.

"You're not going to be ill are you?" he demanded.

"I'm not planning to be; but it can happen" said Petrilla "And things happen – epidemics, getting caught up in a fight and taking a wound – I have to worry about the worst that can happen, it's part of the duty of foster parents! It shouldn't happen. And reckon Felerel's a handy enough hunter, but he can't always go out."

"I'd go for the kids if I had to" growled Felerel "Reckon however insane I may be, I still understand a duty to serve."

Petrilla smiled at him.

"You are a good and brave man" she said "And not insane; just damaged."

He gave her a whimsical smile.

"Reckon you ought to be careful about the way you smile at a man like that" he said "Reckon it could make him half crazy if you weren't careful; and it gives me more sympathy for that Veekram character."

Petrilla gasped.

"Perhaps we ought to talk about that another time" she said carefully, biting her lip.

He glanced at her quickly; then nodded,

The moment passed when Silse tasted the salt and set up a howl because it was so salty!

Petrilla gave him plenty of good cold water to drink and a cuddle and told him it served him right for tasting without asking first.

The salting of the surplus fish went without further ado.

Petrilla spoke frankly to Felerel later while the children played outside.

"I don't find you unattractive" she said "The opposite in fact. But I am concerned lest an affair might ruin a perfectly good friendship. On the other hand I do not wish to deny you any comfort to the lonely place if it is, in any way, in my power to do so; because you have become a friend."

Felerel nodded.

"You're fardling attractive" he said "But I'd not want to spoil it either. Too few people treat me with – well, like a normal person. Your compassion is never the oppressive pity I get from….most dragonfolk; and yet you understand enough, it's not the uncomprehending horrified pity I get from the kinder holderfolk. The unkinder, of course, pass out blows and abuse."

Petrilla was shocked.

"NO! After all you've been through? All you've done for them? Iniquitous bastards! You tell me who's treated you that way and I'll rob them blind!"

He managed a shaky laugh.

"I love your righteous indignation about wrongs" he said "And your unique solution! I get the impression you've not always had it easy, despite your demeanour as an obvious Ranking woman; but you still get angry on behalf of others."

"Doesn't any decent person?"

He laughed wryly.

"Perhaps. And perhaps there aren't many decent persons. Or maybe they're too concerned with their own worries to let all their decency out. You're a good person, Petrilla, and I'd rather have your friendship than share your body."

It was the longest speech he had ever mad.

She smiled at him warmly.

"Thank you Felerel. I don't know if things between us might change; but I'm glad you feel the same way. There's always a constraint when you've been lovers."

He nodded; and they worked on weeding in the garden in companionable silence.

The river now was much closer, almost to the base of the skybroom grove that sheltered the little garden plot; but their sturdy situation told Petrilla it would not come much higher. Their cave would be safe from intrusion of river water, though the bathing pool had grown a little too from the water that leached through the rock to swell the spring that bubbled up there.

There was no sign of dampness on the walls of the cave, however, as there was in the main Holdless cavern; it would probably remain dry.

"We take no dole…we could increase this strip of growing land, and keep a couple of caprines. In a turn or two we'd have the Right to declare it proved as a Hold – or you would, if you stay on. It's worth considering" said Petrilla.

"A Hold? Under the walls of Igen main Hold?"

She shrugged.

"Why not? It supports us as well as many a cothold, with bountiful fish and crustacea. There's abundant hunting, those estuarine avians are good eating and there's wherry in the rocks and small creatures in the woods and orchards above the waterline. It's only here the river comes so close and that no real disadvantage. We could get a small boat too, perhaps to fish further out: and either the food or proceeds from them to tithe to Igen's child hold. If we can Hold AND Tithe, that proves good management."

He laughed.

"Not to mention the proceeds of crime."

"So we shan't mention it then!" she said, gaily. "Why, this little cave could almost do with being expanded!"

He laughed.

"Don't run before you can walk, Lady! Besides, you're leaving in spring – and taking the children."

"You'll miss them, won't you?"

He nodded.

"Aye. Them and you. But I'll not go back on the bargain I made with G'narish."

She shrugged.

"They're happy enough here….Piaz shall go to the weyr when he's ready, as promised; I might stay. It'll depend on a lot of things, like how things lie between you and me by the spring. If we have had an affair we might be more comfortable parting; and Chorlo may choose to stay with you rather than go anywhere near dragons." She gave him a sideways look, hating to mention dragons too much; but Felerel took it calmly enough.

He nodded, agreeing that there were imponderables as yet.

"Understood. Well it's worth treating it as a place to stay a long time; whoever is here in a couple of turns will likely be doing the same work as we are, so it's well to make it comfortable in case they're less able to manage than you and I. And expansion does make sense, to give more privacy to damaged children, older girls say; a couple of chambers for children, say, perhaps off your room. You've done so much to it already, it seems a shame not to continue with that. I don't think I'm a drag upon you?"

"Anything but. You're a fine hunter, and now you know what are weeds and what are plants you're getting the hang of the garden. Can you milk a caprine? Milk for babes would come in handy too."

"I never tried; so knowing their reputation of being as ornery as a Green Rider I imagine the answer is 'no'" he said dryly.

She chuckled.

"Well I never tried to milk a Green Rider; but caprines are only ornery if you're nervous about the business" she said. "We'd have to build out for their accommodation; and see if we can't pipe some of the spring water too."

"I can build some" he offered "I was looking into minercrafting; I just filled in with the lapidary because it was a good and rewarding hobby. I never had a full apprenticeship but the Weyrminer told me something about stone. Reckon I could cut extra chambers and use the stone to build pens."

"Even better" said Petrilla "We have an excellent partnership!"

The wet season continued; and Petrilla wondered if it was worth trying to grow some of the river grains that formed the staple diet here, replacing the wheat she was used to. That seemed a little ambitious as yet though; vegetables she had a vague idea about, and it was hard to go far wrong providing you kept them watered in the dry and free from weeds and no ground-dwelling creature decided to gnaw upon the root. Herbs would be good to establish as well to season dishes; buying them dried was all very well but to pick fresh would be more convenient and tastier too. And it would be something else to sell or barter.

For safety from Thread it was forbidden to have greens – weeds or crops – close to habitation; but Griss was eager to chew the firestone that Piaz purloined from the watch heights and could flame any Thread in the garden. And Petrilla went out with a flamethrower and agenothree with the groundcrews of the main Hold, as did Piaz. Which service earned them, on their seconf expedition, a form letter that amounted to being a warrant of their diligence over Threadfall, and which would be endorsed every time they turned out thereafter.

The wet season lasted three long months; and did make gardening easier for not needing to water; save that the weeds grew just as enthusiastically as the relays of vegetables and must needs be dealt with!

The cold season was next; although cold by Igen standard was rather temperate by Petrilla's. She was reflecting that the clutch at Ista would surely be laid soon when T'rin breezed in with a red-haired, red-bearded man who could only be a mamber of the Mulgan family.

"Courtesy call really!" T'rin said "Veekram left then? H'llon said something about giving him a warranty; he didn't have any other details."

Petrilla noticed, to her amusement, despite the sour memory, that T'rin's nose actually twitched when he was hoping for information.

She sighed.

"He took it into his head that G'narish's man, Felerel here, was a rival to our non-existent relationship and decided to torture him with tales of…." She paused "Of dragons." Sometimes Felerel could cope with mention of the creatures; sometimes not. As sometimes ha could speak of his time in the weyr, such as the day he had spoken about learning stonework, and even joked about Green Riders. He seemed to be in control; and nodded to the dragonriders.

"It's now almost a turn round" he said "I – I don't cope well, but I cope…..thanks to Petrilla here and the kids. It – I fell apart."

"And hardly surprising" said T'rin indignantly "He seemed a promising young man, what little I saw of him…. I'd not realised he had such a mean streak in him!"

"Sure, and maybe it's ignorance more than meanness, not knowin' how bad the effect is" said D're "I didn't understand at first about Shirallen, as he was before he re-Impressed."

"Re-Impressed? That – that's awful!" said Felerel.

"Sure, and it would have been t' do that on purpose, but there was poor little Warneth needin' somebody t'love him and none of the little tykes as failed Impression ready t'take hime on" said D're "A boy broke the shell, and isn't the poor little Brown fella deformed, and his wings twisted and stunted; and he was needful of someone t'love as much as me Esruth that picked me in the tiers, for he was hatched, and our Sh'allen came along t'do just that, fer he's a man o' duty and a good friend o' mine."

"Extraordinary!" gasped Felerel.

"Unique to my knowledge" said T'rin. "We know firelizards can help….and the friendships of friends' dragons. But many Riders inhibit their dragons from chatting to the" he swallowed hard "The dragonless. It's guilt over being glad it's not us, pure and simple."

Felerel looked at him, amazed.

"You can admit to it? You're a remarkable young man!"

T'rin grinned.

"Oh, I'd like to say I'm unique too, but I guess I'm just a product of High Reaches" he said cheerfully "Well I guess I see why we only got a cursory report about Veekram; it must have been fardling embarrassing for you, Petrilla."

"It was" she said "Especially when I found out he'd also been implying to others that we had been lovers! I feel sorry for him; but enough is enough. And he's better off, and more knowledgeable than before – if he does not waste the knowledge I gave him in self pity."

"His problem if he does" T'rin shrugged "I've no time to waste for those that won't shift to help themselves once they've been shown how. Any more kids for us?"

"There were a couple of prepubescent boys; we had G'narish's people lift them on pretext of Search. They're ready to pull their weight helping out. Which reminds me – Search that is – is there a clutch at Ista yet?"

"Just laid" T'rin grinned wickedly "S'why D're and me found excuse to be down there; he can see colours through the shells, y'know; so we've been laying judicious marks around the numbers of the colours. H'llon's still there; G'dened has a broken cupboard and our woodcrafter couldn't stand to see it swing all awry without setting to work to put it right. I expect that Ista has a perfectly good woodcrafter, but that's H'llon! He was sweeping aside all G'dened and Cosira's gentle protests when we came away, saying it was no bother at all; only I wanted to know how you were and so on but we only have half an hour or we'll cut it fine for Threadfall if we don't want to Time it."

Petrilla nodded.

T'bor, she had been told, was strict about the unnecessary use of travelling _Between_ time.

"I hope you clean up well on your bets" she said "We did well on Barnath; never laid marks til Piaz got it from the watch pair!"

T'rin gave a shout of laughter.

"Now that I like – cunning as a Harper, My Lady!" he said, chuckling.

"We rather liked it, anyway" grinned Piaz.

"And how are you, Chorlo?" T'rin turned to the boy.

Chorlo beamed.

"Never better, sir! Mother Petrilla is the best woman on Pern!"

T'rin's eyebrow twitched infinitesimally at her having become 'mother'; but he smiled in genuine pleasure that the lad felt so settled, so different to the way he had been!

"Glad to hear it, lad. My friend H'gey, the one who turned his life around, will be glad; he took an interest in you and your story; he's going to be happy for you that you've real family now. He…." T'rin hesitated then added "He tried to bully me at the Harper Hall, but now I've adopted him as my foster brother."

"Like us" said Piaz, draping an arm over Chorlo's shoulders. "Chorlo's all right. We look out for each other."

"Like brothers should" nodded T'rin approvingly. "Reckon you'll want to come to the weyr with him then, next turn, Chorlo?"

Chorlo looked nervous.

"Please sir, it's because I can feel them that I'm scared, this big monstrous presence, and – and it's kinda very THERE" he said. "Mother Petrilla said I should ask if – if your friend would talk to me and maybe it would be less scary than just feel."

"First egg! I never came upon that before!" said T'rin, going blank-eyed for a moment.

Chorlo's eyes widened.

"R-Renpeth says it hurts his feelings when people are scared of him!" he paused "Esruth says it's funny when bad people are scared of him but he feels bad about not-bad people not liking him. They have FEELINGS?"

"Dragons are people too, kid" said T'rin "They don't always think in quite the same way we do; but they most certainly do have feelings. And very different personalities. Renpeth's a friendly little fellow; Esruth has rather a basic sense of humour over yawning to scare bully-boys with his sharp teeth. Melth can be quite pompous and standoffish if he thinks people are snubbing him by being scared at him, but he's very friendly to people he knows and likes."

"Oh!" said Chorlo "THANK you – and them! I – I think I'll not be so scared now!"

And THAT thought Petrilla was a result!


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

The cool season brought in people to over winter in the caverns.

"Being unhardy types" said Petrilla with some scorn, having slept outside in the very much colder conditions of High Reaches herself.

The children wanted to know all about her experiences of course; and she managed to teach them plenty of survival lore and techniques in amongst the stories.

Tales had filtered back that Thella and her people had gone to Southern and met a sticky end there, so Petrilla felt no more need to worry about the Lady Holdless as a threat; but Felerel had needed to forcibly eject a couple of ruffians looking for a quieter corner to winter than caverns off the main passageways. Petrilla had helped, and Piaz and Chorlo had stood, knives drawn, in case they were needed. Felerel, trained in the weyr as all dragonmen were, in hopes of never needing the training, had been teaching both the boys and Syeira how to fight properly with knife and unarmed.

It turned out that it was Syeira who needed the training for real first; she came pelting back through both jangling curtains to throw herself sobbing on Petrilla.

Petrilla soothed her, gave her klah, and bade her tell her story. Syeira gulped.

"This old woman – she's one of the new comers – said to me did I want to earn a few marks? So I said I didn't mind if I did, what was the job? And she said come along with her and she'd show me. So I went and it was quite a ways in she was taking me, and I didn't like it, so I said I'd changed my mind and I'd not go any further. Then she grabbed my arm hard! Real hard, it hurt! So I broke the hold like Felerel showed us and ran outa there like a man with the shits runs for the necessary!"

"Well done, you're a good brave girl!" praised Petrilla. "Are you brave enough to take Felerel and me to see this old woman?"

Syeira nodded.

"Can Piaz come?" she asked

"She's my sister" said Piaz.

Petrilla glanced at Felerel.

"I don't like to leave the cavern and the little ones unguarded."

He nodded.

"Reckon those two big boys of yours and you can handle most things if you'd like me to stay here" he said, adding in a low voice "I don't need to prove myself; these younglings do."

Petrilla nodded.

Syeira led them through a complex web of passages and as they approached the point at which Syeira had run, they intercepted a middle-aged woman, manhandling a little girl about Dessi's age.

Syeira went for the woman, headbutting her in the midriff and latching her strong young teeth into the wrist that held the child!

With a cry of pain the woman let go.

The child froze, terrified.

"If you've parents to go to, run to them: or wait and follow us and we'll see you're all right" said Petrilla.

"Hey, whaddya mean letting that brat attack me? Can't I chastise me own daughter wivvout being attacked?"

"I ain't your daughter!" shouted the girl.

"You tried to kidnap my fosterling in the same way" said Petrilla, taking the woman by the arm firmly "You're under arrest."

"Garn" said the woman "You ain't a guard, you can't arrest me!"

"I'm better than" said Petrilla, directing Griss to go to J'ton. "Now you old hag, you got any more young girls in your den? Boys, bring her along" she thrust her towards Piaz and Chorlo who frogmarched the woman between them with a competence that seemed quite military!

Six young girls were manacled naked to beds, the chain just long enough to allow them to use the necessary bucket by the side.

They were, naturally, terrified.

One of them had manacle sores that looked old.

"How long has she had you?" asked Petrilla, gently.

"Two…three turns, I reckon" said the girl dully. She was almost fourteen. "I'm a cripple…. I can't run away like some do when travelling."

She had a club foot, Petrilla noticed.

"And the rest?"

The girl shrugged.

"Them two, Shawna and Kaisa she picked up on the way in, treated 'em good 'til she got 'em here."

"You didn't warn them?"

"She say, if I did, she'd find a man what liked back passage sex for me. She would of too."

"I see. What's your name?"

"Leealla."

"Very well. We'll release you all as soon as this affront has been witnessed."

"I am here; I witness" said J'ton's voice "So does G'narish."

"I planned to visit you some time" said the stocky man grimly "And your little firelizard gave pictures of abduction to J'ton very clearly; so I came."

"My thanks, Weyrleader" said Petrilla "Am I likely to cause a political stink? If so, I'm sorry but it won't stop me."

G'narish shrugged.

"Laudey's flexible" he said "Suppose we hear all the stories while you release those girls – she'll have keys somewhere surely? Then I'll take HER to Lord Laudey. Can you sort out getting children back to parents?"

"Not a problem – if they're here" assured Petrilla "If they've been taken from elsewhere, dragon transport would be appreciated. Where's the little one she was dragging in?"

"Here, Lady" said the child "Please, if I go back to my parents, won't they sell them again?"

Petrilla was rocked back by that.

"Your PARENTS sold you?" she gasped. "They must have know what she was at!"

"I don't know" the child's lip trembled.

"What's your name?"

"Sadya. My pa's Sadim."

"Shall Piaz and me go and find out if they knew?" volunteered Chorlo.

"They can't have, surely!" said Piaz "Pa might not have CARED for us but he'd not have sold us to….."

"MY mother would have sold me to anyone who paid the marks" said Chorlo. "Give us marks, mother Petrilla?"

"In case of others?"

He nodded.

She dug her hand in her pouch.

"Find out what the old hag paid them too" she said "If they knew, we'll find a way to get it off them for Sadya."

Piaz grinned fiercely.

"Are we going to quarrel over your weyr or mine?" asked G'narish quietly.

"That, Weyrleader, depends on whether those who have retained any spirit will get fair chance at Impressing a Green when they're older" said Petrilla "If they should wish to do so."

He shrugged.

"It seems to work at High Reaches; T'bor showed me more than one piece of evidence that suggests it's a lost custom anyhow. I have girls already who've applied. They'll get the same chance as any boy."

"Then it is better not to take them to a hostile climate like the High Reaches; this time of turn there's four feet of snow on the ground."

G'narish shuddered.

"Of course; I keep forgetting" he said. "Very well; I'll get a lower cavern weyrwoman to come with decent clothing for them once we know how many will be going."

Leealla had been orphaned by Threadfall; her mother had thrust her into the barely adequate cover because with her club foot Lealla had not been able to run for better shelter.

"Their calculations were wrong; the tinkers who told us we could easily reach the next shelter before Threafall" she said, dully "And mother went back out in it, not to bring Thread close to me, growing in her body…." She shuddered and retched.

She, poor child, had received too many blows in her short life; her mother and she on the road because her mother had left her cotholder husband rather than have him kill her daughter when it became apparent she would never walk straight; then her mother lost, then to become the slave of this evil woman for several turns. That she had the resilience to stay alive was remarkable; whether she would ever have the spirit to be a weyrwoman or whether it had all been crushed out of her remained to be seen. At least she showed no fear at the concept of being taken to the weyr!

"Dragons are better than people" she said.

Shawna and Kaisa were sisters, thirteen and twelve turns.

They were loudly indignant against the old woman's perfidy, and her insistence that they call her 'mother' added insult to injury. They were orphans too, evicted from a cothold after disease had claimed the rest of their family, pushed out by one of the local Holder's underlings who wanted a nice little cot for himself and who told them they could get out or drudge for him and satisfy him when they were old enough.

They were not complete innocents; and Shawna at least had a fair idea what he meant. They left.

"Laudey isn't going to like that" said G'narish grimly. "He's a good man – for a Lord Holder – and the Holder they were Beholden to has a duty of care. Which does NOT mean making them drudges and loving wenches as an alternative."

"It's a duty ignored all over Pern" said Petrilla "I think it's well enough documented that this happens in the High Reaches logicators' records."

"Well maybe Laudey's enough of a man to get off his backside to call a conclave to discuss the matter. It's disgusting the way some of these Holders flout their duties and still whine about their rights."

"It's a common human complaint" said Petrilla dryly "Not solely confined to Holders, nor holderfolk."

G'narish gave her a sharp look; then a curt nod.

"Well, happen you're right" he said.

The other three girls had been seized within the Holdless caverns since the woman had arrived; they had not found out her name because she was still screaming imprecations so foul G'narish had gagged her with one of her own socks.

The oldest of these three was twelve, named Ileane.

"My parents died last turn; you know me, Lady Petrilla, I mudlark for you" she said.

"You told me you had family" said Petrilla.

"I do. I've an older brother; he does sailing trips to fish. She got me when he was away."

Petrilla nodded.

"Is he back yet, do you think?"

"Dunno" said Ileane.

"You can stay with me until he is, if he's still away" decided Petrilla.

The youngest two were no more than nine turns old; Lissa had been offered work like Syeira, to make her go, but had not had the same misgiving for being too innocent. It had all been a great shock to her and she sobbed for her mother.

Merrina was the child of an itinerant glasscrafter who did not get on with the Master Glasscrafter in the main Hold and so stayed in the holdless caverns here instead.

Petrilla waited for the boys to return before seeking out other parents.

Piaz and Chorlo were angry when they turned up.

"They knew all right" said Piaz "For all they hedged around. She's only a girl, it's all she's good for. Porcines! I'm going to ruin them!"

"Other children?"

"We bought the baby girl – she's two; they hadn't tried to sell her body yet for being too young to make anything – and we took her to Felerel on the way back" said Chorlo. "Did we do right?"

"You did; but Sadya's going to want her baby sister to go with her to the weyr. You can take her to get the babe while the others are being dressed and soothed by the weyrwoman."

The weyrwoman was a down to earth woman called Nadeena, who looked enough like G'narish's Weyrwoman Nadira, that with the similar name suggested a relationship. She wore Headwoman's knots; an important woman, and Petrilla was duly respectful in her tone towards her.

More so than she was to G'narish.

Petrilla was like that sometimes.

Ileane's brother had returned scant hours previously; and was starting to get worried about his sister when Syeira dragged him off to collect her. Petrilla told him what had happened.

Illas was furious.

"WHAT? Evil baggage! I'm going to KILL her!" he roared.

"No, actually you're not" said Petrilla "You are going to let Lord Laudey make an example of her to deter others to show that the Holdless have rights too."

"He won't though" said Illas cynically.

"Oh but he will. I've some powerful friends, my friend, and even if I didn't care about other kids – which I do – Ileane is an employee of mine and that makes me take it personally so I throw more of my resources into the matter. Now come and collect her and keep your hands to yourself."

On returning, Petrilla noted two men who had not been there when she left. One was unconscious; the other sported a black eye and was bound. J'ton was massaging his fists with grim satisfaction.

"Clients of hers" he explained unnecessarily.

"You can kick THEM a little if you like" said Petrilla conversationally to Illas.

He did not need much invitation to avail himself of that offer!

Lissa's parents, traders were horrified at what had happened; angry; and determined to do anything they could to help her get over the terrible experience. They had been going frantic, searching high and low for the child and Petrilla was happy to return Lissa to the bosom of a loving family.

The Glasscrafter and his wife were equally shocked, angered and horrified.

"She'll have to stay here I suppose" said the glasscrafter "Obviously we can't call her our daughter any longer. She's been devalued. A girl who lets herself be used is just a slut."

Petrilla stared, scarcely able to believe her ears.

"Excuse me?" she said "The child is nine turns old! She was chained up and raped! How is that in any wise 'letting herself be used'?"

He shrugged.

"She's spoiled. It's unfortunate; but we can't let her stay with us. What would people think?"

Petrilla boiled over; and she cold-cocked him. She turned to the wife, who was shrieking, and slapped her. Hard.

"Tell that ovine-witted husband of yours when he regains the few senses that he has" she said coldly "That people would think better of parents who cared for their children than they would of cruel tunnel snakes who discard them because they've been attacked and hurt! Great shells, what kind of a mother are you? I despise you and I'll see your husband has no work anywhere I have influence!"

"He's very strict" sobbed the woman.

"Then grow a backbone for the sake of your children and either tell him where his duties lie or leave him, you daft bovine!" said Petrilla.

"Oh, but he's my man, I couldn't leave him, think of the shame to leave your husband!"

"Twat" said Petrilla contemptuously; and turned on her heel before she did anything more violent.

She dreaded breaking it to Merrina; but the child just listened and nodded sadly.

"I had a sister once, and she was hurt by men at a Gather; and father made her stay there with nothing but the clothes she had on, all ripped and torn as they were" she said "I did think it was because she was grown up, and able to fight back, 'cos she was thirteen turns; but I guess not."

"You'll tell J'ton where that was, and he'll go looking" said Petrilla.

"Too fardling right I will!" said J'ton "Reckon I can put out word about THAT glasscrafter too!"

"Good man!" said Petrilla.

At last it was all sorted out.

G'narish reported that the woman was to be chained out during Fall; and the clients to be executed.

Petrilla thought it all quite meet.

Even Illas, Ileane's brother, was approving of that as a result!

"Fancy, he do care beyond feeding us enough to keep us from stealing too much!" he said.

The sequel to the tale of Merana, Merrina's sister was good news.

The young girl, weeping and desolate, had attracted the attention of a recently widowed cotholder, with daughters of his own, who asked if she had lost her parents; and on hearing the whole story had whisked her back to his cot to take employment as housekeeper and nursemaid to his younger children – his oldest being Merrina's age – and he had agreed to adopt the child conceived of the rape and was to wed Merana as soon as the babe was born so she might look fine in a red wedding gown. He had seen that the entire cot community knew the tale, that Merana should have no false rumours spread, and was glad to have confirmation from a dragonman of what some neighbours had murmured was a little far fetched a tale. The cotholder, Sekinder, invited Merrina to join his family too, promising she and his daughters should go on Search if they so wanted in the future.

It seemed an ideal solution; and J'ton was relieved to agree when Merrina was so pleased to be with her sister again.


	22. Chapter 22

_My reply to review function is down so I haven't been replying unless I can go to a PM; thanks for reviewing! Queen of the Jungle, Ileane will be mudlarking with the others and will likely spend time with the girls under Petrilla if her brother is away for another extended period, thanks for bringing that to my attention as I should have thought of it. She''s also going to get taught how to fight. Sorry I haven't detailed it; Illas is young enough to want to be independant though and would prefer to keep his own quarters, even if he encourages his sister to stay with friends when he's away._

**Chapter 22**

Felerel woke Petrilla in early pre-dawn of a day cold enough to need a light quilt overnight.

"It's T'rin" he said "I think he wants you dressed."

"That'll make a change to his response to most women" quipped Petrilla, quickly rising to pull on her clothes quickly and come out into the outer cavern.

"I heard that" said T'rin "And let me tell you, however many women I have on the go I'm always faithful to all of them at once!"

"For a Harper that almost carries a perverse kind of logic" said Petrilla. "What can I do for you?"

"Oh this time it's more what I can do for you!" said T'rin "Thought you might like to go to the Ista hatching.

"Would I ever!" said Petrilla, hungrily.

"It's not that I wouldn't ask you Felerel; but I guess you'd rather not?" T'rin turned to ask the dragonless man.

Felerel gritted his teeth.

"I know Lytol's done it; but it's still too soon. I'll go to support the boys when they stand; that's a promise."

"Faranth's egg, you are a fardling hero!" said T'rin, tears in his eyes. "Lady P, will you like to take the older ones?"

"Yes, and don't call me that" said Petrilla. "Boys? You want to come?" she asked the too-quiet mounds.

"If Renpeth will talk to me all the time" said Chorlo, sitting up.

Piaz had already bounced out of his bedroll.

"What if we Impress accidentally at the wrong weyr?" he asked.

"Ista isn't going to do anything as irregular as have Impression in the tiers" laughed T'rin "G'dened wouldn't allow it! You'll be High Reaches Riders when you Impress!"

"How can someone who's scared of dragons Impress?" asked Chorlo.

"Heh, Jora was scared not just of dragons but of her own QUEEN for shells' sake!" said T'rin with contempt. "Poor Nemorth, it must have been awful for her!"

"But….someone who loves you unconditionally…." Said Chorlo.

"Yeah. Exactly. You'll be fine, our kid. Renpeth's joining you now."

T'rin led Petrilla and the boys out of the caverns and down near the river where Renpeth waited. Chorlo paused, breathing hard; then Renpeth winked at him!

"Sorry Renpeth" the boy said "I'm coming."

Petrilla scrambled up first, thanking Renpeth for his politely extended forefoot, to show the boys how to do it; and helped pull them up. T'rin mounted behind them all with a flying and acrobatic leap and only a little scrambling, and was still strapping up when Renpeth took off.

"Show off" said Petrilla.

"He's a Harper, mother Petrilla, what else do you expect?" laughed Piaz.

How the dragons arriving at Ista Weyr from all over from _Bewteen_ avoided collision was a mystery to Petrilla. The boys had each yelped once at the shock of the cold nothingness. They had used the necessary before leaving to avoid embarrassment lest the intense cold cause any physical reaction the first time at the shock of it as T'rin explained.

Petrilla suspected it had too a lot to do with the fearsome horror of the whole concept of _Between_; she had always found it too useful on the few occasions she had ridden to have any fear of it; but she knew many did.

T'bor was already there, and T'rin lead his guests to join his Weyrleader, who greeted them punctiliously.

"You've done sterling work for us, Lady Petrilla, you and your fosterlings" said T'bor, including the boys in his warm smile. "And you have made us new friends and allies in Igen Weyr. G'narish is a good man; far more ready to be radical and forward-thinking than I had realised."

"Has he met H'llon yet though?" laughed Petrilla.

"Met, liked and agreed with him on many subjects…if they had their way, Holders would form a meritocracy like crafters!"

"It's not such a bad idea. It's supposed to be done that way, essentially; but an old Holder chooses his heir for his own reasons, and that's usually ratified by the conclave regardless. And though I believe the older man's – or woman's – view should be respected, it should also be examined carefully. A cunning man can flatter a man made foolish with long turns."

"Don't let her talk to G'narish, T'rin" said T'bor.

"Too late, Weyrleader!" said Petrilla "Though we had more pressing matters on hand than hypothetically healing the politics of Pern…." Quickly she explained about the child-procuress.

"I'll look into that sort of thing in the High Reaches" said T'bor, grimly. "Ah" his face lit up "Here come the candidates!"

White-clad candidates walked gingerly onto the hot sands, forming a semi-circle around the eggs. Caylith hissed menacingly.

"Why is there a small egg? Is it unviable?" asked Petrilla.

"Probably" said T'bor "All Queens can lay eggs that aren't….normal; Oldtimer Queens are more likely to, possibly as a result of coming forward four hundred turns _Between_. It's been postulated as the reason Ramoth laid the egg that became Ruth; and why he has such excellent time sense. But Caylith was laid in the present time. I don't know" he shrugged "It's not considered proper to destroy them before hatching because all eggs must be given a chance: but they almost never hatch without aid. It is considered improper to help them hatch, on the principle that what must be, must be. Jaxom started a bit of a trend, breaking into Ruth's egg; and there's a few sports that would otherwise be unhatched because of it, to the irritation of some. I don't, myself, consider it necessarily wrong so long as whoever breaks the shell is prepared to take the consequences – a deformed dragon, or one with a limited life expectancy."

Petrilla nodded.

"It can't be wrong to help any dragon" she said "Poor little egg…. I suppose there's little chance of so small a dragon surviving anyway – even if it's fully formed and alive."

"That is one reason they are left" said T'bor "For a child to Impress and then be dragonless within a turn…it's an horrific thought."

Petrilla nodded again. It was bad enough for a grown man like Felerel with memories at least of flying together; but a child….she could see why T'bor only thought it not wrong if those who broke eggs considered the consequences.

The first egg broke with a loud SNICK! breaking into her reverie; and a little Brown dragonet fell out.

"Too bad" said T'rin "They were hoping for a Bronze first; it's good luck."

"He's a big Brown" said T'bor "It's all superstition; the strongest break the shell first or the most ornery. Often that's a Bronze; it's nothing more."

Eggs started breaking left and right, and the joy of the moment of Impression was almost tangible as new life partnerships were made. Dragonmen were weeping openly with joyful memories of their own Impression. Petrilla noticed her own face was wet with teas of emotion.

Chorlo and Piaz were both awed.

"They're quite little really when they hatch" whispered Chorlo "They're so HUNGRY!"

T'bor was startled.

"Can you hear them then, lad?"

"I can feel them sir….I've always found it scary, but Renpeth has been talking to me….I shan't ever be afraid again, 'cos they just so want someone to love them!"

"Well, I'm glad of that" said T'bor "Anyone who can feel dragons belongs in a weyr…and would be invaluable in H'llon's wing. They fly the most complex formations of all; knowing where other dragons are is an advantage."

"I can't do it; have to rely on Renpeth's fast reflexes to stay out of trouble in it" said T'rin "K'shon was glad to know there's others; he's hoping you'll be able to hep him one day"

"I – well, I don't know! I guess I have to see if I Impress first!" stuttered Chorlo.

"My brother and I will be coming to High Reaches soon, sir" said Piaz.

The Hatching was virtually over; and T'rin grinned and waved to a Blue Rider with Istan orange in his knots looking chagrined and less than happy.

"Their bookie" grinned T'rin. "Good ol' D're; we cleaned them out good and proper AND some side bets too with the more belligerent!"

"I didn't hear a thing about it, nor do I want to!" said T'bor primly, then spoiled the effect of austere unconcern by asking, "How much did you take?"

T'rin calculated quickly on his fingers.

"With the side bets too – such a lovely contentious lot, innocent as babes, ready to lay out marks on a nice little argument – reckon we should clear five hundred and twenty marks" he said happily.

"You're a rogue" said T'bor.

"Yes, sir. I'm a Harper."

T'rin slid off to collect his various winnings, chuckling; and T'bor excused himself to go have a word with G'dened.

The small egg remained.

It was so small; breaking it might not be a kindness in the long run. Petrilla sighed.

A weyrchild obviously did not agree.

He was a gangly lad, not far off Impressionable age; possibly even old enough and passed over for some reason. Not all weyrbred lads stood for Impression the moment they Turned twelve; Petrilla recalled someone mentioning that some lads needed a turn or two, or three or four, to grow up.

This lad had a stone and was banging at the shell of the tiny egg.

"He'll HURT her!" cried Petrilla, leaping up.

Her voice carried; several people turned round; and followed her gaze.

"Seden! Stop that!" roared a Bronze Rider.

It was too late; the shell cracked and the tiny golden muzzle thrust out trilling distress.

The boy Seden gasped.

"GOLD? But…." He said.

Tiny she might have been; but her razor sharp claws scored him in as severe a punishment as ever he might have received from the weyr authorities.

Petrilla found she was running.

"I'm here, Delyth!" she called.

Delyth wanted her; and she was so very hungry! Petrilla scooped the tiny dragon up and cradled her.

"Poor darling, you're hardly bigger than a firelizard!" she crooned.

It was quite true; Delyth was but twice as long as the enthusiastically humming Griss.

Delyth gave Petrilla to understand that her size was not at issue but the size of her immense hunger WAS!

The Istan Weyrlingmaster glared at Petrilla when she came out, as bemused as any weyrling.

"Who said you should break any shell?" he growled "She'll die, you know – and then you will suffer, you fool girl! It wasn't worth it!"

"She didn't break shell" said T'rin coming up behind her "One of your boys did. He's having numbweed and a tongue-lashing for it now. Petrilla – P'rilla, my apologies – you knew she was a she before he broke through, didn't you?"

P'rilla nodded, trying to feed Delyth carefully.

"No, chew it….these pieces are too fardling big for you…use your teeth" she projected the thought and whipped out her belt knife to divide up mouthful sized pieces for a normal sized dragon into those Delyth could cope with.

"Heh, glad I listened to L'exa" T'rin muttered to himself. "Anyway, Weyrlingmaster, she felt the pull before the egg was broken; she was shouting the little Queen's name before eye contact was made. It's the way it is."

"And we shan't be leaving you with am embarrassment either" said T'bor coming forward "P'rilla is High Reaches staff; she belongs with her sisters who are also Impressed there, and with her fosterlings."

"P'rilla?" said the Weyrlingmaster in scorn "You don't contract girls! And as for giving an honorific on ….."

"On a Golden Queen of unusual ah, dimensional measurement" said T'bor softly. "Most people had left the hatching ground when it happened; with so many eyes on Ista, I take it, G'dened, you would like to keep it quiet?" the Istan Weyrleader was with him.

G'dened shrugged.

"If the young lady wants to be part of Ista Weyr, I'm not ashamed of any of my people if that's what you mean. My name's not R'mart last time I looked."

"Shells!" said T'rin "And I thought T'bor was the one without tact!"

T'bor tapped him lightly across the back of the head with two fingers in a light rebuke.

"Quiet, you" he said. T'rin grinned; the rebuke was more for form's sake than meant seriously.

"I am High Reaches people, if you don't mind, Weyrleader G'dened" said P'rilla apologetically "Though I may say – no, don't gobble just because I cut it smaller – I do appreciate your generous and open attitude. And there are my children to consider."

"Shells, why didn't you consider them before?" grunted the Weyrlingmaster.

"I didn't have a choice" said P'rilla simply. "She called me; I had to go."

G'dened nodded.

"Well, T'bor, can I leave it in your capable hands?" he asked. He was doing a good job of hiding his relief; and P'rilla appreciated the more his offer to stand by her and her unusual Impression.

T'bor nodded.

"We'll get this pair back home and let them sleep it off when Delyth's been oiled" he said.

"Yes, the younger ones will be awake by now and missing us" said P'rilla.

T'bor looked nonplussed.

"I ….er I meant home to High Reaches" he said.

"Weyrleader, I can't yet! How can you expect me to give up my duties? I have to sort out the children, check that Felerel is all right on his own….she's not exactly outsize, surely there's no problem?"

T'bor chuckled.

"No, I suppose not. Well, G'dened, as Pet – uh, P'rilla is living incognito in the Holdless caverns at Igen – weyr business – I suppose that puts her almost under your jurisdiction for a while longer."

"What the crackdust is she doing there?"

P'rilla lost interest in a story she already knew well, oiling Delyth's beautiful pale golden skin, shimmering with greens, bronzes, even blues and browns in the shadows. So pretty!

And so tired.

P'rilla grinned hazily at her awestruck boys.

"We'll help you care for her" said Piaz.

"We'll have to help Felerel to cope" said Chorlo "I'll run ahead when we get back and warn him; and get some wine for him if he needs to get drunk!"

P'rilla explained about how sad Felerel was in the curious, if sleepy, mind of Delyth.

"_**I will love him too if you want me too"**_ said Delyth _**"You love him. If you love him I love him too."**_

With that comment she promptly fell asleep.

P'rilla stumbled; and T'rin caught her.

P'rilla woke, feeling ravenously hungry, a small wedge-shaped head regarding her anxiously, eyes whirling red with hunger.

Felerel was there with scraps of wherry meat.

"Felerel? Are – are you all right?" P'rilla asked.

"I – I think so. She – she's hardly more than a firelizard….though…. P'rilla, she spoke to me when she woke! I – I…" there were tears in his eyes but hesitantly he stroked Delyth's head knob.

She hummed in pleasure between gobbling meat.

Later, as they oiled Delyth together, his hand touched hers; and he covered her hand in his and held it.

"Delyth says you love me. Is….do…?"

"Dragons are always right, I guess" said P'rilla quietly. "It's obviously what she found in my thoughts; so it must be there. I – I never loved anyone before; except a foolish infatuation when I was thirteen that passed before the object of my pubescent urges even realised, I'm glad to say. This is…. I don't quite know what it is. It- it's as comfortable as anything."

He nodded.

"She – she's sweet, isn't she? Oh P'rilla, I hope she lives, I couldn't bear you to be empty too!"

P'rilla felt a moment's terrified panic. She swallowed hard.

"I – at least I've been here for HER to love; I've not let a dragon down" she said "That's more important than how I feel…."

He stared.

"Yes" he said "Yes, I suppose so. We'll do our best by her. If – if I may."

"My dear, dear Felerel, I'd be overjoyed" said P'rilla.

And when Delyth slept, she showed him how overjoyed he made her; and in their loving release he was able to forget for a short while the empty place.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

T'rin and H'llon turned up with plenty of oil to rub into Delyth's soft skin and the knots of a Queenrider Weyrling.

"But…she's not a real Queen is she?" said P'rilla, apologetically stroking Delyth's silky head "I'm not entitled….I'm not even sure if I'm entitled to the contraction!"

"See here, P'rilla" said T'rin in his best lecturing voice reserved for the more stubborn weyrchildren "You Impressed a dragon. She speaks; that makes her a dragon not a firelizard. So you're entitled to the honorific even if she never grows big enough for you to ride. She can chew firestone like other dragons, because she's not going to be big enough to be an egg-laying Queen, even if she reaches sexual maturity. Ruth never has, you know; though that's more to do, we think with him being something of an hermaphrodite, having male and female in him. You can always ride with another Queenrider, or one of your sisters, and be with her kinda. We thought it all through while you were sleeping it off; she can fight Thread one day and you can be with her, beside not on. You're a proper dragonrider."

"Exactly" rumbled H'llon "And woe betide anyone who says otherwise!"

"What about here? Am I to go to the weyr?" asked P'rilla.

"You can stay for the time being; but you'll need to learn formations like anyone else, you know; even if it's longer before she's allowed to fly."

P'rilla nodded.

"Thank you for not assuming she's probably going to die like the Istan Weyrlingmaster" she said.

"Why should she?" demanded H'llon. "She's tiny, but perfectly formed. And with all these helpers to coddle her, she'll do just fine."

The girls and Silse had been awed and overjoyed to find their foster mother returning as a dragonrider; and petted Delyth into crooning, pleasured incapacity!

"Any idea how big she is going to grow?" asked P'rilla.

"She's smaller than Ruth when he first hatched" said H'llon "By all accounts. If she grows at the same rate as most dragons do she MIGHT carry you, for you're not heavy. R'gar wants to look her over of course, as dragonhealer; he's also writing everything he finds out about sports for future reference. He reckons, close as he can guess without having seen her, that she'll reach the size of a large wherry."

P'rilla nodded.

"So I may as well make up my mind that riding her is probably out of the question, at least as far as fighting Thread is concerned; well, High Reaches ingenuity will devise some clever formations for us, I make no doubt!"

"Your Weyrleader's a good man" said Felerel "To accept such a sport – and to talk about ways of integrating her."

"Meh, we do sports all the time" said T'rin. "Our own – and other folks' cast-offs. Delyth has the small size and likely manoeuvrability of a firelizard; but the intelligence that means she could, say, take a rope to someone injured where even Denth can't go – our small sport Brown, same size as Ruth – or measure a crack on the ceiling to stop the hatching cavern falling down" he grinned and quickly related the story of the crack in the hatching cavern and how T'lana had been unable to persuade firelizards to measure it with a piece of rope to find how close it was to a critical length.

"Mine could have" growled H'llon, interrupting.

"YOURS are well trained" said T'rin. "my Prism could too. But at the time, training was NOT usual."

"Still isn't" said H'llon dryly.

"'Tis with them beholden to us for eggs" said T'rin "I can't answer for the pesky flutterbugs outside of High Reaches and the Harper Hall."

"Smug little article you are" said P'rilla without rancour.

T'rin grinned.

"S'me!" he agreed! "Anyway, having decided the ceiling was dangerous to the clutch in the cavern…." He went on to explain how T'lana had believed – rightly as it turned out – the only way to stop the crack was to drill holes at each end. He even explained the mathematics of it; which interested Felerel even if P'rilla would have been just as happy without this addition to a good yarn!

T'rin had brought an exhausted P'rilla and her golden bundle of dragonet in the back door; and nobody yet knew that they had a newly Impressed dragonrider in their midst.

P'rilla intended to keep it that way.

It would be safer for Delyth.

She spoke to Felerel.

"Dear, for Delyth's sake, she needs a weyr. What are we going to do? Are you going to stay here and I beg trips to visit? Or can you bear to come?"

Felerel considered deeply.

"Dragons go a long way for one of their Queens" he said abruptly "And they say Brekke can bear to be around them because she can hear them. I don't know if I will like it or not….but will you ask T'rin if they would all talk to me? I – I want to be with you and the children and with Delyth too. I love her for you" he added fiercely.

P'rilla's eyes filled with tears.

"I can ask her to bespeak Renpeth" she said with dawning wonder at the possibilities.

Delyth passed the message

"_**Renpeth says all his friends will talk to you, Felerel"**_ she told him directly _**"Renpeth says you are to be honoured. I don't THINK that was rude"**_ she added _**"Perhaps it's a fancy way of saying they will feed you?"**_

Felerel actually laughed and embraced the tiny dragonet.

"Renpeth means he likes me" he translated, simplified, for her infant understanding.

G'narish and J'ton came to visit under cover of the Turnover Gather.

"Being nosy" said G'narish with cheerful honesty.

P'rilla grinned. She liked the straigt forward Weyrleader of Igen weyr.

"Be as nosy as you like, Weyrleader; we've to go to High Reaches Weyr where they're adapting patterns for her to fly when she's big enough."

G'narish grunted.

"Well, that inventive woodcrafter will come up with something practical I wager, Queenrider, that's no makework! Something tells me that Felerel might be going too…"

As Felerel had P'rilla's hand in his it was not so perspicacious a guess that it needed a trained logicator!

"I'm going to try, G'narish" Felerel swallowed. "I – I've got attached to the children too. And the High Reaches dragons talk to me; it makes it easier not to be so alone."

G'narish's eyes widened.

"They will? Without it being inborn that you hear them all? Why on Pern had nobody ever come up with that idea before? Shells sake, I've got to talk to T'bor again, and get THAT idea round to help all our people who are bereft! And, fardles take it, I have to find someone else to be here, now, as you're deserting me!" he wagged a finger; but it was plain he was delighted that his one time Rider had a sense of purpose and love in his life!

"Ah, the tribulations of being Weyrleader" murmured P'rilla.

"Less of that, lass! You sound like T'rin!" G'narish wagged his teasing finger at her. She grinned.

"He is a little contagious" she said.

oOoOo

T'rin reported – rather spitefully gleeful in tone – that all the Weyrleaders had listened to the idea of asking dragons to talk to the dragonless: except R'mart who grumbled that such a thing had never been done.

"So T'bor murmured that certain weyrs had dragonless men who had so little support that they ended up joining renegades like Thella – and R'mart stormed out" he grinned "T'bot paid off a HOST of old scores with THAT comment!"

"Were you there?" she was surprised, even knowing T'rin's ubiquitous habits.

"Nah, T'lana eavesdropped on Orth eavesdropping" said T'rin. "Having a foster mother who can hear all dragons isn't half useful."

"You ARE a rogue" said P'rilla, amicably.

"It's what makes me so loveable" agreed T'rin.

Delyth was quick to want to try her wings, nose diving after a flap or two at first, but soon adept at flying round the cavern!

"She needs more room really" said P'rilla, ducking. "If we're careful, she can fly around the skybroom stand. Anyone who sees her would think she's a firelizard if they're not close enough to get an idea of scale. We'll need to be off to the weyr soon; I was hoping we could wait until the weather improved and you had a chance to adjust" she laid a hand on Felerel's arm.

He shrugged.

"Might as well make up my mind to face it" he said. "In a sevenday? We've no replacement, but…"

"Voll would take over for a while I reckon" said P'rilla, suddenly "He's the best jewel thief in the High Reaches; and a clever man. He's a friend of H'llon's and little knows it, but I owe him one."

Felerel nodded.

"So long as he'll work with J'ton and G'narish"

"Voll describes himself as a sentimentalist; he'll work for the good of the people."

Felerel nodded.

He trusted her judgement implicitly.

They were out with Delyth exercising her wings, idly watching young Bloods of the Hold and fosterlings messing about with watercraft. It was a fairly safe time of turn, the massive rains having largely stopped, but as yet no mass of meltwater from far to the north, though the weather here was getting warmer. Thinking of the meltwater reminded P'rilla of Chayney.

"Hmm, I must get Voll to explain to my logger suitor that I found someone special" she said "Or perhaps it would be kinder to just tell him that I Impressed accidentally; he'd expect me then to seek a weyrmate."

"Logger suitor?" asked Felerel mildly.

"He asked me to wed him. I turned him down; he was a fun lover, but not for keeps" explained P'rilla.

"And…. I am?"

"What do you think, silly?" she smiled at him, the smile that stopped his heart and caught his breath in his throat. "I don't do long term, you know – or I didn't. I won't ask you to make me any promises; and I won't make you promises. But I want to be with you when we're both grey and wrinkled."

"I'd like that too" he said, suddenly contented to consider growing old rather than seek opportunities to risk his life.

There was a sudden, frightened shriek; one of the little craft had capsized! The shriek cut off to a gurgle, then with a splashing a child was clinging to the upturned craft.

"Oh Dorana!" chorused all the other children in horror. They seemed entirely nonplussed, and the child was drifting downstream in the fast current.

P'rilla bolted indoors to grab her longest rope.

"Delyth, take this to her, tell her to wrap one end round her and bring the other end to shore, hurry!"

The little dragon flew off, imprtantly.

Fortunately Delyth was small enough to perch on the upturned boat without capsizing it still further, and obligingly held the rope to help the little girl get it around herself.

By this time, P'rilla and Felerel had raced downstream, trying to keep level.

If only the rope would reach far enough.

"I'll wade out" said P'rilla "Hold my belt."

"The boys are coming" said Felerel "We can make a chain."

He waded out behind her, Piaz holding his belt, Chorlo the stockier of the two boys as anchor man holding Piaz's.

The rope reached.

Delyth flew back to the child, crooning encouragement; and took some of the weight in her front claws.

"NO Delyth, you'll overstrain your wings! Come and land!" called P'rilla "She's a good brave girl, she can do it, can't you – Dorana, wasn't it?"

"Oh yes, weyrwoman!" called the child and promptly spat out the water that washed in while she was speaking.

By this time, various well dressed adults had arrived, and Chorlo had his belt seized.

"Are you all right, lad?" said a deep voice.

"Fine, sir….my brother's slighter than me, if you'll come forward I can help him more."

He found himself given slack and moved to help Piaz hold Felerel against the fast-moving river.

Hand over hand P'rilla pulled the child in, slowly so as not to drag her under, fighting to keep her own balance, breast deep, and feeling the pressure of the mighty river, feeling the soft mud sucked from beneath her feet.

"Let's get shallower, people, steady as we go!" she called as she grabbed Dorana's hands "I dare not pass her back, I might slip!"

Step by step they moved shallower; and Dorana clung to P'rilla's hands.

"You're a good girl not to try to grab at me" said P'rilla "Good and sensible. How did you come to capsize?"

"Oh it was that Chardek; he's a fosterling, a big boy and he was larking around" said the child with scorn. "He wouldn't listen to reason about respecting the river. He rammed me because he wanted to make me squeak because he thinks making little kids squeak is fun, and I don't, even when he twists my arm."

Her young voice carried back, albeit faintly, to the man at Chorlo's belt.

"How old are you, son?" the man asked.

"Sir? My brother and I are Turned fourteen" said Chorlo. "And if this Chardek is the one I think he is – I didn't see the whole – he's at least out age and I wouldn't mind a quarter of an hour alone with him!"

"Ah, twins, eh? More fun I imagine to grow up together…." mused the man "Well well, and you two ready to risk life and limb for a child you don't even know."

"Any man would" said Chorlo "Ah, that's better; thank you" as he stepped back onto firmer ground.

"- Or apparently not. I suppose it does rather sort the men from the inadequates" said the man.

Chorlo could almost feel him glaring at a knot of youths much his own age, dry shod, in a cluster on the bank.

The little girl was passed back.

"Father!" she squealed, hurling her damp little self on the stranger.

"I owe all you people a debt of gratitude" he said.

"Anyone would have done the same" said P'rilla "If they had the resources to hand. I was glad not to have to swim; I swim like a fish, but that's a powerful current."

"Father, her baby Queen dragon came and brought me a rope and told me she'd help me fix it!" said Dorana, who seemed none the worse for her watery adventure.

The man looked startled.

"Queenrider? I had no idea… that you should risk yourself, risk a Queen! We are honoured!"

P'rilla shrugged.

"She's a sport; we're a little more expendable I guess. Though I don't suppose that would stop me doing what has to be instinct for anyone half decent….we'll be going to High Reaches where we belong, but the warmth here could give her a better chance of survival. She's undersized you see; a boy broke the shell and – and she chose me!" her face suffused with joy.

"I had no idea….you had just arrived? You must come to the Hold, guest caverns provided immediately…."

P'rilla finally noticed his knots.

"Oh fardles" she said "You're actually Lord Laudey himself, aren't you?"

He laughed.

"Is that so horrifying?"

"Yes…no..My Lord, I want to get myself, the kids and my man into dry clothes; then I guess we'd better come and explain more" she said.

"I look forward to it….your kit we could take up to change there, if you liked…"

"Please….we'll come along later" said P'rilla.

"As you wish, Queenrider…. I didn't get the name?"

"P'rilla. We contract at High Reaches."

"Ah. Yes, er, quite so. Klah and a hot meal will be awaiting your convenience. And YOU!" he said to his daughter "Are for a hot bath first!"

"Yes father" said Dorana meekly.

She appeared to know when his word was law, though her face showed a lot of spirit!

The look Lord Laudey gave the youth who must have been Chardek boded a less benign immediate future for him!


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

"I will begin, if I may, at the beginning, Lord Laudey" said P'rilla "I had the misfortune to be born a product of the late and unlamented loins of Meron of Nabol; and because, in common with my other sisters , a fit subject for jeers and condemnation in his stead as soon as he was dead, little girls not being as scary to jeer at as a Lord Holder of uncertain temper and very certain meanness. I chose Holdlessness as an alternative; one of my sisters married well beneath her but with affection, just to escape; three others chose the weyr. Lord Deckter fosters fairly the two youngest."

Succinctly she told him of the High Reaches discovery of orphaned children dispossessed; and those born through no fault of their own to be Holdless; and of those like Peder and Jen who were no longer sound in wind and limb. And she told how the weyr chose to do something about it with the tacit approval of the Lords Beholden to the weyr in their efforts to fulfil their oath to serve.

"I came here for information; partly to see if anything came to light about Thella, as I am GENUINE Holdless, no Harper spy; and to gather general information too. It seemed likely that villains traded on your good nature, for you are a generous man, and well respected for it, you and your lady both, by most of the Holdless"

Lady Doris inclined her head, pleased.

"We do our best to relieve the suffering of the poorest of our society; like the weyr we recognise that not all are Holdless by their own fault – and I use the term fault in its purest sense. There are those who simply choose to eschew as rigid a way of life as Holdbound life must be; and there are plenty too who are Holdless by accident of birth or by various abuses and other circumstances beyond their control" she said.

"Because the traders and tinkers choose their life, and are travelling, we have never interfered or asked too many questions" said Lord Laudey "Perhaps I too should have an agent in the caverns."

"Or you might liaise with the weyr agent who will be replacing me, because I must take Delyth to train properly at the weyr" P'rilla stroked the little creature who sat at her side, Golden muzzle in her lap. "He will liaise also with G'narish as well as T'bor; I'm sure he will be happy to pass information to you too. I have done, already, in a backhanded way! I was planning to leave within the sevenday, My Lord, with my lover and our foster children."

"Your little girl is of an age with our Dorana" said Doris "Would she consider fostering with us for a while?"

"That will be up to her" said P'rilla "When she knows she has a stable home at High Reaches, meets again her brother who is apprenticed to the weyrartist there, whom she misses, and feels secure."

"I shan't mind in a while" said Dessi "Dorana's no squeaking idiot. She can tie knots too."

"I'd hope so" said Laudey "A big girl of nine and a half turns needs to be able to tie knots if she plans to mess about on the river!"

"Well I guess she could teach me plenty" said Dessi "And I could teach her to pass as a Holdless and spy for you sir as well as us all sharing a spy."

Lady Doris opened her mouth to protest; but shut it again. Then she said,

"I'd expect good precautions to be taken; like with sailing. Letting people know and so forth."

Dessi grinned.

"Oh! Yes. I think a covert sort of bodyguard would be in order; but I guess we could borrow J'ton. He's pretty good."

Laudey hid a smile.

"I'm not sure it's quite done to just, er, borrow a dragonrider."

"J'ton won't mind" beamed Dessi "He likes helping, and Weyrleader G'narish is pretty all right about it."

"J'ton and I grew up some together" volunteered Chorlo. "Piaz and me aren't twins, we're both fostered, we're brothers now you see."

"I'm a little confused about the plethora of Weyrleaders involved here" said Laudey. "Lady P'rilla, you belong to High Reaches you say; but you are also working with G'narish?"

"It was because J'ton got involved, through wanting to come back and…..sort out a problem we'd already stuck our noses into. With meeting up again with Chorlo, he got friendly with us, and involved G'narish. For all I know G'dened knows all about it too, though I doubt it; Ista's had its own troubles and can't worry about extras right now. I actually Impressed at Ista, and I think T'bor told G'dened something about me; but it's why I'm going home to High Reaches; for Delyth" and she explained how she had come to Impress, leaving out G'dened's tactless remark about R'mart however!

Laudey nodded.

"I heard rumours T'bor took cripples no-one else wanted; we've always fed the disabled here, but I should like to know if it is true that he finds work for them."

"Finds? Many are trained. The Weyrwoodcrafter regularly replaces feet and legs for those short of a limb; the blind, partially sighted and maimed in the hand have firelizards to see or manipulate for them, those unable to walk have wheeled chairs that they can manoeuvre with their hands. No-one is a cripple at High Reaches; merely that some have more physical ability than others."

"Wheeled chairs? Wooden legs and feet? Marvellous! Why, old Brare could have sailed again!"

P'rilla delicately cleared her throat.

"You'll find some who find, after a while, that the dole you give them is easier than being offered a real chance with an enabled body" she said dryly "Which is why we at High Reaches give respect to those who ask to be helped to help themselves, though we do such as we might for others too."

Laudey shrugged.

"We feed all."

"And if you also covertly watch all, you get to know who could be given a hand up instead of just a hand out. And get to keep an eye on the less desirable characters. Did you catch any of those muggers my foster son drew for you? The lad who's apprenticed?"

"Yes, most of them we took red-handed for having had them watched. They're good likenesses; I see why you have him formally apprenticed! So, if G'narish was involved with the affair of that evil old woman….."

"She tried to grab our Syeira" P'rilla dropped an arm round the young girl's shoulders "And we asked J'ton for backup….G'narish came too. The deposition made by Bronze Rider H'llon about that child-spoiler was also as a result of our interference. Chorlo and Silse and J'ton himself were owned by the thiefmaster involved…. I don't know how much H'llon told you."

"The one with the pins? Yes, he told me about that" Laudey nodded his head gravely to Chorlo and ruffled Silse's hair. "This older lad of yours is a real man, despite a bad start."

Chorlo flushed!

"He and his foster brother stand for Impression next turn" said P'rilla proudly.

"And me in a turn or two" said Syeira, forgetting to be awed. "I'm going to stand for a Green."

"Well now! It seems some weyrs are getting quite unbending without us noticing!" said Laudey.

"It's a partnership: the Charter says so, Hold, Craft and Weyr" said P'rilla. "And autonomy's all very well but there's not treading on each other's toes and then there's not sharing vital information for fear of being called intrusive. We – I mean the weyrs – were planning on talking to you to draw you in, sir, and it was going to be done properly and formally, not by some unintentional weyrling with no diplomatic training, like me!"

"I think I like it better from somebody without diplomatic training" said Laudey dryly. "I can hear the sincerity in your voice and see your earnest expression without having to unravel Harper-trained cadences designed to appeal to me. Not that I've anything against Harpers" he added hastily "But I like to hear truth, not what someone thinks I'd like to hear!"

"Yes, G'narish said you were nobody's idiot" said P'rilla, then flushed "I – er, I'm sorry sir!"

Laudey laughed.

"A backhanded compliment from the Igen Weyrleader, but a compliment nonetheless!" he said "He's no fool himself. So, will the weyrs permit a Hold contingent in this matter of the Holdless?"

"Speaking for High Reaches – which I feel safely able to do – I'd say they'd be delighted. I can't answer for G'narish and Igen. I suggest you talk to him. In the High Reaches we have an excellent relationship with Lord Deckter who does himself all he can for orphans, and also gives support to the weyr child hold from his personal wealth; as do Lords Bargen and Oterel. All three agreed that any child spoiler should be fined to ruination, any heirs or dependants given fair settlement from that, any compensation to victims likewise, and anything left over from the person's goods and from the wages they would have earned – enforced labour for life is a popular punishment – goes to the childhold. Lord Groghe has started an orphanage, but Fort Weyr is only involved so far as collecting unwanted children – illegitimate infants, or cripples mostly – to bring to the Hold childhold. I think he's using fines in the same way."

Laudey nodded.

"That I like. The one Bronze Rider H'llon brought me was beyond my jurisdiction to punish heavily; but I wrote to Asgenar. The other two forfeited their goods and chattels, and that went to our fund to provide dole."

"That's very fair, sir."

"I will feed rogues as well as honest men, women and children to avoid punishing the latter" he said. "But information from your man will help me watch those that need watching."

"If Voll will come, he's a good man. Gentle" said P'rilla. "A volunteer to learn the business of constructive thievery, spying and bodyguarding would be appreciated if you've a discreet man; our business is fencing stolen goods and changing high denomination marks. It gets us to meet a lot of people. Your man would have to accept that."

Laudey nodded.

"I've just the man. He's a guard; he was injured in a fight against renegades. He limps from muscles torn by a spear; it makes patrolling hard for him, but he's still a useful man in a scrap. Solid type; loyal and close mouthed. But imaginative, I'd say; able to take in new ideas. Lost his wife and two children to marauders after the Pass started; he came to me for work and I've had him ever since."

P'rilla nodded.

"Sounds ideal. And the idea of the limp, why he can put it around he as a guard dismissed for being unable to do his job properly. It will cover the soldierly bearing he'll find difficult to disguise and be utterly believable" she explained "You have to have the right mix for a cover story; almost all truth with the small, but significant lie. Or else you get found out. If you get found out, you die."

"There's a lot more to it than meets the eye, isn't there?" Laudey was startled.

"Yes my Lord. I'd like to meet this man of yours if he's willing to do it; and I'd like to get this lot back before some light-fingered article gets into our nice little Hold and whips the labours of half a turn and more. You can send him down to ask for Lady Petrilla; he'll get directions."

"You are a cool hand" said Laudey.

"I need to protect him; and me" she said "If you're agreeable, Lady Doris, we can talk another time about the girls fostering here if they wish. It won't do them any harm to learn about another way of life than my way and the weyr way before they stand for Impression."

oOoOo

Laudey's man, one Yewlis, limped into P'rilla's office next day, looking for working and hearing she needed a bodyguard.

P'rilla liked him right away.

He was softly spoken, but looked as though he would be no pushover; he was of the same stamp as H'llon and Felerel, quiet until pushed too far.

"I never done anything dishonest in my life before" he said "But Lord Laudey says that to catch big rogues I should learn some small roguery. How much roguery must I do, My Lady?"

"Nothing more than turning a blind eye to where stolen goods came from" she said "You'll learn to recognise those that have taken by violence; those you'll be passing word about. If it pleases you to take a finders' fee for stolen items like jewellery, I'm sure Lord Laudey can arrange that, rather than breaking up and resetting stones. I usually try for a finders' fee where I can; nicer for the victim and less trouble to me, if less profitable. Pickpockets? They're small fry, often literally. Most are children with no other means of support, or whose families cannot fully provide for them. I take the view that if people don't heed all the warnings to guard their goods properly they might as well have a sign about their necks 'I'm an idiot, please rob me'."

He gave a slow smile.

"Aye, we do warn country cotholders in for the Gathers to keep closer eyes to their marks, and if the fools take no notice they can't be blaming us guards."

"Quite" said P'rilla. "We all make our own destiny in many respects. You've impressed Lord Laudey; I don't doubt he'd have arranged you a pension and some light duties in any case, but he thinks you clever enough to handle this, which will keep you from getting bored."

The smile was broader.

"Aye, Lady, I suppose I'd not looked on it in that light; but you're right. It is indeed an honour to be trusted with so delicate a business. And glad I am to still serve my Lord. He's a good man."

"He is that!" agreed P'rilla.

Voll joined them in a day or two, at P'rilla's request to the weyr.

"Better climate here" he said, happily, cracking his knuckles and shedding a layer or two. "MUCH better. Won't be any hardship, especially not in this snug little Hold – save for missing the weyrfolk."

"They'll visit regularly I don't doubt" said P'rilla. "I'm going to introduce you as my cousin; the changeover will be more seamless then."

"You weren't seen going to the Hold to talk to Lord Laudey?"

P'rilla made a derisive noise.

"Of COURSE I was seen – in full Queenrider knots, fine clothes, my entourage behind me, all pomp and caricature and a good scarf under my flying helmet to hide the hair. No-one's going to associate P'rilla, Queenrider, with Lady Petrilla, fence. Felerel stalked quite as arrogantly as any Bronze Rider, the children so plainly his and the three oldest ones weyrlings."

"Sorry… teaching my grandmother to snare tunnel snakes again!"

"Oh you had to check" said P'rilla "It seemed the best way around having to tell him in a hurry. Watch that daughter of his, Dorana; she's quite likely, little mischief that I wager she is, to come looking down here. Yewlis knows her."

"We'll watch out, spank her tush, and send her home" said Voll, cheerfully. "Won't we, Yewlis?"

Yewlis grinned.

"Only if we catch her first! She's a one, is Lady Dorana – but there's no vice in her at all!"

Introducing Voll went off without a hitch. Holdless families often had large and rambling family trees; excess cousins were no surprise.

Voll got on well with Felerel, discussing the finer points of lapidary with him.

"That boy Tawn has only gone and started carving scenes into stones!" he said "He's amazing; got hold of a bit of bluejohn and carved the most exquisite picture of the seven spindles in it to give to T'bor. Kid's beyond good. Geriana's delighted with him!"

"I'm glad" said P'rilla "We'll all be glad to see him again; but I'm glad he's been busy enough not to miss his siblings too much."

"Oh he's been in trouble quite happily with the others his age!" said Voll cheerfully "Fit in like a hand in a glove. Misses his family o'course, but when he got give all that paper and coloured chalk too, well he was like an apprentice boy let loose on a bubbly pie stall!"

P'rilla laughed.

"I'm so pleased" she said. "You'll attempt to prove my little Hold here too? There'll be fresh fish as well, Illas pays in fish for Ileane to be safe under my eye when he's away; so it's really just keeping the vegetables going. I should think they could be recruited to help in the future too and told the truth."

Voll pulled a face.

"I don't know nothing about farming, Lady; I can't say as I'll be able."

"I had a cothold before I was burned out of it" said Yewlis "If I can have a stake in it I'll help prove it."

"That's fair" said P'rilla. "It's a Hold for those who serve; and if you need it to support you in old age, it will. It's also for your own enlightened self interest; extra vegetables are nice to cheer up the everlasting fish chowder if you've no taste for hunting. And caprines too a different meat, but mostly a good source of milk. If you branch out to unwanted babies that could be useful."

"Babbies I don't do" said Voll, firmly "If there's to be babbies, T'bor, G'narish or Lord Laudey'll have to lend me a woman; and that's flat."

P'rilla laughed.

"Coward" she said.

"Yes: and that's why I'm still alive!" he retorted.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

Melth and Renpeth talked soothingly all the time to Chorlo and Felerel. They went fairly openly; Voll was to let it be known that the boys had been picked on Search and his cousin could not resist seeing what pickings were like in the weyr!

Delyth was able to fly ahead to join the two dragons, settleing with a happy croon on Melth's broad neck, hobnobbing with his firelizards.

"Careful, lady" one of the Holdless, a toothless old thief, warned P'rilla "They may be as innocent as newborn babes these weyrfolk, but if you rile them – whooh!"

"Thanks; I'll take care" said P'rilla, touched that a client whose name she could not even recall should take trouble to warn her, just because she'd fed him once or twice!

The trip _Bewteen_ left Silse a little upset; but Dessi and Syeira gritted their teeth, not to be seen to be scared in front of dragonmen. Chorlo was too busy in the middle of a conversation with Renpeth to register more than faint surprise; though it was not _Between_ that had ever been a fear of his, but dragons themselves! Piaz was whooping with glee!

Felerel's face had been set; but it took on a look of wonder when they reached the Seven Spindles.

"T'rin, they're all saying 'hello' to me!" he said "They – they want to be with me!"

T'rin grinned.

"Of course they do. They've some idea what you go through – it's how every dragon feels between hatching and Impression, you know!"

"I – no, I didn't know; I guess I never thought of it. They are kind!" his eyes filled with tears in a mix of joy at remembering Impression an horror at losing it; and gratitude at the love these dragons were showing a stranger!

"A Stranger is only someone you haven't met yet" said a tinkling, joyous, female mind-voice; a Queen! "I am Mirrith; so we are no longer strangers!"

P'rilla climbed off Melth, thanking him, and took Silse from H'llon to be promptly engulfed in hugs from sisters she barely knew and a cousin she had never met, all but the youngest wearing the knots of Green Riders!

Delyth got very over-excited; and had her tail sharply nipped by Lisith, I'linne's partner, with an injunction to show a little respect to her elders!

A gangling child hardly any older than Dessi also came to hug P'rilla; and yet she was wearing the knots of a weyrling Queenrider as well as Harper apprentice!

"Your Delyth's even smaller than my Jeshimoth" said the child "'Cos I flew her _Between_ time to get me for hatching! Or rather, I will, 'cos we don't go _Between_ yet."

"Shells, I never heard anything so dangerous!" gasped P'rilla.

K'lana shrugged.

"If we die of it at least we've been together. It had to be done to get me there; I'd Impressed before the shell cracked you see."

P'rilla did not really see, but smiled as if she did. A very strange child this!

When Felerel dismounted, the entire weyr broke into applause; and T'bor came forward.

"You are held in much honour, Felerel" he said. "Your bravery is coming to a Weyr is immense."

Felerel was flushing.

"Sir, if it were not for the kindness of your dragon speaking to me, so I am not so alone….."

"They do it because you came" said T'bor. "We would like you to wear the knots of a senior supervisor of High Reaches; as close as we can get to your former status as Bronze Rider, and to give you status out of the Weyr. Here, of course, we go by more than knots, as I think you know."

Felerel was crying.

Silse wormed his way in.

"Why you make my father cry, bad man?" he demanded, facing out T'bor with his little fists clenched.

Felerel picked the child up and hugged him.

"Grown ups can be silly, Silse" he said "He's not a bad man like that nasty bully, he's a good man, and I'm crying because he makes me happy. He's a good, kind man!"

Silse frowned and digested that.

"Is that like you and muvver crying out and making strange noises in the night but it's not being hurt that Chorlo 'splained?"

Felerel went scarlet. So did P'rilla.

"Er…something like that" Felerel conceded "T'bor – thank you! I don't know what to say!"

"Then don't try, old man" said T'bor, putting a friendly hand on his arm. "We owe you and P'rilla a lot for the knowledge you've gleaned – and for your efforts in bridging the clefts that so often exist between Weyrs and between Weyr and Hold. We'll do our best to help you have as much joy in your life as you can!"

Felerel was quite overcome!

The little family had been provided with a small weyr down by the eating cavern and kitchen complex, between the lower caverns and H'llon's workshop. It was a neat little family cave, a sleeping room for Felerel and P'rilla opening off the tiny weyr, made large enough to accommodate a dragon up to Ruth's size. After all, as T'lana said, in future generations it could cater to other sports like Denth. And the extra couch size would be no detriment to Delyth, for like Ruth, Delyth attracted firelizards who would doubtless be happy to sleep with her!

The sleeping room had its own necessary, and another off the shared bathing room, that all would use, and a further two caverns, one each for boys and girls.

It was Tawn who proudly showed his family around, having hugged each of his sisters and his brother, and then bestowed cheery hugs on his two new brothers, his new father and P'rilla. Geriana had given him a holiday to show them about; and P'rilla and Felerel were left quiet and alone to settle in after suggesting the children go with Tawn without adult interference!

They made themselves at home to make the weyr their own of course; it had to be used, as P'rilla gravely informed Felerel! It was a release of emotion, for both felt quite moved at the trouble gone to on their behalf!

In the post-coital lassitude, Weyrwoman T'lana brought the lovers klah with no sign of embarrassment or surprise.

"When you get up, Geriana would like to show you how well Tawn is progressing" she said "She hasn't been teaching long and she's anxious you should feel that she's doing her duty. Foolishness; anyone can see she does a grand job with all the kids in her care, but she feels in need of reassurance."

"If he's happy – as he seems to be – I'd say that was the most important thing" said P'rilla "He's intelligent and talented; and – no disrespect to your weyrartist – if he had enough materials I wager he'd progress if he were mastered by a llama."

T'lana laughed.

"I have to tell Geri that; it agrees well with her own view of him!" she grinned. "She's just afraid of spoiling his natural flair, silly girl. She won't; she couldn't. She lets him get on with it, then makes him tell HER where he could improve. You'll see."

Tawn's improvement was obvious to P'rilla, not having seen him or his work for some months.

"You have brought him on spectacularly, Geriana!" she said "I'm so impressed! The only thing I worried about was that he might feel pressurised; but though I'm no artist I can see joyful spontaneity still in these most recent paintings; and he's eager to show me, not anxious so I reckon he's enjoying himself. And no-one could ask for more."

Geriana was pleased.

"That's what I call proper parenting" she said "You want what's best for him, but you want him to enjoy it. He's a talented lad; when he's old enough for a full apprenticeship I'm going to ask Agatta if she'll take him. She is the best; he'll learn a lot from her. I did, in just the few weeks she was staying at the weyr. He's working on lapidary and cameo carving; I've got him stones with layers in to cut away as well as decent shells. Oh yes, and he Impressed a couple of firelizards while we were getting the shells and I appear to have acquired a couple more too" she grinned ruefully.

Viridian and Ochre had been joined by brown Umber and blue Cyan.

"I called mine Seamist and Seaspray!" said Tawn, scratching the polls of his little pale blue and soft green firelizards.

"Very nice names too" said P'rilla "They're lovely, Tawn, and you have them in beautiful condition!"

Tawn kicked the table leg, pleased.

"Aw…Geri helped."

"High Reaches has well disciplined lizards" said Geriana "We're very strict about it. Even Lessa couldn't complain about them!"

"Why should she? Doesn't she like them?" asked P'rilla.

"Oh! Didn't you know? I'm sorry. It was Southerners' firelizards who gave co-ordinates to allow their Bronzes to steal the Queen egg; Lessa's been a bit….antagonistic to firelizards, even though other firelizards helped Jaxom find and return it, and find D'ram when he went _Between_ time to mourn Fanna. Oh, lots has happened and I guess most of it hasn't been allowed to get far out of Benden Weyr; like they've found where the ancients originally landed, and some teaching books not unlike what H'llon's been making, with good big letters to help little ones – most archivists on Pern are having apoplectic fits at such large writing – and they're plainly printed, vindicating Elissa's invention yet more. And we do other people's secrets here, being logicators, so we probably know most of the things Benden would rather we didn't" she added cheerfully.

"Well, I seem to have missed more news than I found!" said P'rilla, a little chagrined.

Geriana shook her tawny mop of curls.

"Oh no, not really! YOU found what we couldn't, and discovered more depths of perfidy than we could even have guessed at. It's been exceedingly valuable for the logicators, I assure you; and gives us signs to look out for things to stop in other places. You're a skilled logicator, P'rilla. We'll be glad to have you to add your thoughts to discussion here."

"Well, I'm happy to help; and pleased that I already have" said P'rilla "But I have to say that I feel quite in a whirl – so much has happened, and I missed it! And what I'm sore about I guess" she added honestly "Is that it's said that ALL information goes through the Igen caverns; and so I made an assumption. It was a false one, weyrs can close down more on their secrets than Holds."

"Well, I guess you'll soon catch up on anything that's important; the hissy fits of the more volatile Benden Riders aren't" said Geriana "Hey, and don't you let anyone pester you over what you dug up; we're all nosy of course, but you're entitled to time to settle in, and get to know your sisters and adjust to weyr life before getting questions fired at you!"

The family devoted itself to settling in.

Felerel approached Journeyman miner B'lan and asked if there was any chance of apprenticeship despite his age; and B'lan was happy to agree.

"Age is only because of children learning quickly" he said "And it's ASSUMED people start an apprenticeship by the time they're fourteen, giving them six turns to complete. Adults find it harder to apply themselves – but if you wish to learn, I guess that's a sign of application. Besides, I guess your own studies got broken off?"

"By – by Impression" Felerel found he could manage the words! Big Green Leviath was encouraging in his mind, echoing her Rider's sentiments.

"D'nor – my weyrmate – has gone with his tools to be confirmed Journeyman at the Minercraft Hall" said B'lan "He was senior apprentice when we came here; because it's winter, H'llon can spare him from the Protective Wing: plenty of blackdust crackdust of course, this far north."

Felerel shivered.

"And it's coming on for spring" he said "I've two pairs of long underwear on and I'm still cold!"

B'lan laughed.

"You DO get used to it" he said "K'shon from Ista swore almost constantly through last winter, but he's fine this turn, save the occasional grumble. But to the business in hand; I'm happy to teach you, and if you want to go and be confirmed as Journeyman when you've learned enough I'll explain to Master Nicat why you're older than normal."

"My thanks" said Felerel.

Whether he wished to confirm as Journeyman one day he did not yet know; he just wanted the opportunity to learn more. It was another thing to immerse himself in now he was not involved in being P'rilla's bodyguard: though with the love and kindness of the dragons he hardly needed to spend as much time forgetting!

There would always be the sadness, the emptiness; but he could cope.

P'rilla discovered that all her sisters were different; M'iandra inclined to be sarcastic and cynical; I'linne fond of words and given to involuted periods of considerably pedantry; Ipominea scarcely less pedantic and an enthusiast of the new craft of printing.

The one thing they had in common was that they were all logicators.

P'rilla, Felerel and the children were all drawn quickly into the logicators' meetings, held in the winter in the eating cavern and as much under foot as any group of weyrlings, as Keerana put it! The children soon found others of their own age to be friendly with, Syeira happy to find that Ipominea was her own age and serious enough not to be boring to a girl whose own childhood had been rather overshadowed with staying alive to be frivolous. Dessi and Silse were soon involved with various of T'lana's fosterlings and their hangers on; and if Piaz and Chorlo were rather sufficient unto themselves they were on good terms with T'rin and hence with most of the Harperweyr. As that included I'linne, their own age, and her friend F'lim, that worked out quite well.

It was not long before the little family felt they had been at the weyr for ever; and that it was Home.

P'rilla too made a deep friendship with T'rin's crippled sister, Queenrider Sh'rilla.

"If you ride with me with a flamethrower, it will make up for the fact that my own range of movements are necessarily more limited than a Queenrider with working legs" Sh'rilla said. "Also the time will come that Calla will prefer me not to go up at all; if Daenilth is used to you, you shall ride her for me, so she continues to be a proper fighting Queen, with Delyth to help, and help her speak to you. She's a bit shy is Daenilth. And I can be up there through her, even though my body lets me down; I'd feel less of a drain on the weyr. We can help each other out that way, if you will?"

"Why – it seems an eminently ideal solution!" said P'rilla. "Thank you for thinking of it! I'm only sorry that you'll end up weyrbound!"

"It's still better than anything I could have hoped for before I Impressed" said Sh'rilla "And I've good memories, a good man, a son, a foster son and so many friends – not least Daenilth. And you can fly her places to be a formal Queenrider if you like, and take me in her head so to speak. Delyth can ride or go _Between_ for herself when she's old enough, and stay by Daenilth while you do weyr business. Daenilth hasn't been many places, so she's not really known as my Queen. I don't like visiting much" she explained "Too many people snigger behind their hands at a crippled Queenrider. But there's no reason you shouldn't – you're good with people, a born Queenrider! And frankly, your name and mine, Daenilth's and Delyth's, slurred a little sound enough alike that people could think they made a mistake if they hear a different name. It's best not to confuse people with too many facts: people can be unkind and ill-natured. WE count you Queenrider; others might not. And if you rode, Daenilth would not get upset by those who would scoff at me."

P'rilla nodded. Sh'rilla spoke truly!

"Well in that case, Delyth and I had better get to know Daenilth as well as you, hadn't we!" she said.

It was a rewarding friendship.

Sh'rilla had the same dry wit as her brother but quieter and more understated; and she had soaked up knowledge like a drying cloth for being unable to be active! In fact she also helped with some of the teaching duties, for she loved children, especially her own once-disabled fosterling Keeby, and her son Shadeel.

Keeby was a turn older than Dessi: he had missed much schooling through illness with the pains in his knees and hips, though he could study in bed; and he was happy to study with her and help her catch up. Dessi's natural inclination was to play with active imps like Mikas; and also Begionne, who was already known to P'rilla and was glad to see her again, having adapted to weyr life like a firelizard to flying. Keeby joined in more and more with the games of the fitter children, for he could do far more than he had been able to when he first came to the weyr three turns before. Apart from in the coldest, wettest weather he could join in with just about anything now! His members had wasted a little, despite careful exercise and were all that held him back and he looked forward to the summer! It was all down to a special brace, Sh'rilla told P'rilla that Master Oldive and H'llon had devised between them to hold his hips straight as they grew; for the Masterhealer was very clever!

All in all, P'rilla thought that Sh'rilla and her family were good friends to her own family; and the new Queenrider's heart filled with joy at the pragmatic acceptance that problems were made to be overcome at High Reaches Weyr!

**The End**

_A/N I'm beavering away transcibing from longhand, I have a few to post but I'd be obliged if you'd let me know if you'd rather I prioritised Harper, Woodcraft, Weavercraft, Artist or Weyr stories or a tale of itinerant acrobats. Next up will be Elissa's Fosterlings and a spinoff from that following then Vorinia's Tale__ and then the followon is in the wind.__ Thanks for continuing to read!_**  
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